


Jack Fucking Morrison

by hostilewitness



Series: JFM [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Anxiety, Blackwatch, Blow Jobs, Choking, Cunnilingus, Dream Sex, F/M, Female Reader, Female pronoun Reader, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Grinding, Hate Sex, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Minor Character Death, Murder, Oral Sex, Original Character Death(s), Pegging, Pining, Porn With Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2019-08-24 15:20:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 50
Words: 390,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16642748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostilewitness/pseuds/hostilewitness
Summary: A story about Jack Morrison. About how you joined because you saw him as the amazing commander in the posters and were slapped in the face with reality, and what lead to you hating and loving and giving everything to each other. It's not just a story about him, though. It's about Overwatch and how an entire organization came to a crumbling end, it's about what you did and didn't do, and about the lives you effected because of your decisions. A story about you.





	1. The Incident

**Author's Note:**

> 1/7/2019 edit: Hi everyone, it has now been confirmed that Jack Morrison identifies as gay in canon. This fic was started under the assumption that the character identified as straight/bi/pan/whatever to indicate he was attracted to a female reader.  
> I already had multiple chapters written past the point of what's posted but have been in the process of expanding on them/editing them. In writing this fic I mean absolutely no disrespect to the LGBTQA+ community and have no interest in erasing the genuinely needed gay representation in media, specifically in video games. Since I started this with the assumption of Jack Morrison being sexually attracted to females I will finish out the fic as such. If you're still here, or reading for the first time, I want to genuinely thank you for sticking with me while I finish this out. <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrison fucks up yours, and many other, lives by making a stupid decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an expanded/continued story of my Kinktober 2018 one shot (Chapter 9, Hate Fucking), if you want a quick and dirty version please go check that out. :) As a heads up if you have read that, I will be changing the story around a bit so it's not just a carbon copy, and I will continue past where I left it!  
> Please know, the first few chapters have graphic scenes that relate to harming the reader's body as well as witnessing death and will later go into post-trauma. If you have any questions please let me know at [hostilewitness-ao3](https://hostilewitness-ao3.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! I'm happy to anwser anything!

Morrison. Why did it have to be Morrison? Why did it have to be that perfect blond haired, blue eyed, monster of a man? He brings nothing but heartache and suffering, but you just couldn't help yourself. 

* * *

 

You felt like you had worked your whole life to finally be part of the strike team led by the one and only Commander Jack Morrison. All through boot camp and bunking it as a cadet you kept an article that described how proud he was of the work he did with Overwatch, how being the Strike Commander was his greatest achievement. It had a picture of him saluting, bright blue jacket blowing behind him in the wind. It inspired you every day, made you work harder, pushed you to surpass the other cadets until you had the highest marks in your rank. When you looked at his picture you were reminded that he was a real life superhero- and he was one that you were determined to serve under.

When the day finally came that you got the call about being accepted to his team you couldn’t help but scream in joy. You obsessed over having your uniform pressed perfectly, hat pinned exactly in place and shoes shined until you could see them from space for the induction ceremony where you would meet him for the first time. When he first walked out and greeted everyone, you stood as straight as possible, heart fluttering so hard against your skin you thought it was going to fly out of your body. He smiled at you lifting one side of his lips higher than the other when he stood in front of you with your new pin for the strike team. 

He was taller in person than you thought he’d be, but he was just as perfect as the picture.

“Glad to have you on the team.” His eyes studied your face, teeth grazing across his lower lip as his fingers worked on attaching the pin to your lapel. “I think we’re going to work well together.”

“Excited to be on your side, Commander Morrison!” You responded brightly before he moved down the line to the others. When he pinned the next agent his eyes shifted back towards you, lingering as you smiled at him in excitement.

If only you could have seen the truth behind his eyes then, it would have saved you years of hurt.

* * *

 

You only saw the strike commander four times before your first mission in the field. An hour every Monday, he led required training courses for his strike teams that would knock the wind out of you, afterwards you would be exhausted, your limbs would feel like jello for days, and at night when you laid in your bunks your team spent rounds groaning about the workouts. 

You tried to get to know your team, testing how well your fighting styles worked together, getting to know their strengths as you ran drills side by side, getting to know their weaknesses when you stayed up too late having hushed conversations in the common room. Liddell, Arntz, Leskow, Noremberg. Just like you, they were all new to the strike team, they were figuring out how they fit in with the group and how they fit into Overwatch. Just when you were starting to mesh, only a month since joining the strike team, you were sent on your first mission.  

Woefully under prepared, you all packed into a drop ship late in the night and traveled to a horrible backwood town in the middle of nowhere. Intelligence reports said omnic extremists were hiding in an abandoned cabin nearby, threatening the local human townspeople.

As everyone geared up readying to leave the ship you asked the commander why he wasn’t suiting up in any armor. He stared at you dead eyed, eyebrows raised as he pointed to a series of screens set up in the pilots area playing the body cameras mounted on the chests of your suits.

“I call the shots here, can’t risk getting in the field anymore.” He said with a gesture to face. Your body went stiff. Your whole career you pictured gunning down bad guys side by side with him, it wasn't computing that he wasn't going with you. “Oh relax, we’re pretty sure this was a false report anyways, you’ll do great out there. You’ll check an empty building, confirm nothing’s going on, and everyone will be back on base in time for breakfast.”

Then he winked at you.

A wave of confusion rushed over your body as you searched for the right questions to ask. His attitude wasn't what you were expecting- and by the nonexistent reaction from the pilot and crew, it seemed his nonchalance was a common occurrence. It felt like your body hit a wall, like everything you knew about Overwatch was suddenly backwards. You pictured the article that was still tacked to the wall at your bunk back on base, words along the page describing the exhilarating feeling of his rifle in his hands, and the heartwarming he felt when he was able to rescue civilians. 

Your team pulled at you, hurrying to get ready. You glanced behind you as you strapped on your last piece of armor, seeing the commander lean back against the chair watching the screens with his feet propped up to his side. Shaking off an unnerving sinking feeling in your stomach you rushed out with the team towards the omnic hideout sitting about a half mile away.  

* * *

 

Through the forest the strike team stumbled upon large white signs, nailed to trees with mathematical precision, clearly omnic made. The first one was warned of bear traps in big block letters. You scanned the ground with a hacking screen, confused when you detected nothing. In assured safety your team carefully continued through the trees, eyes to the ground watching for any signs of traps.

Next your teammate stopped when they found a sign threatening of armed snipers hiding in the trees. Night vision lenses confirmed there were neither humans nor omnics lingering above you with weapons and you pushed on.

Then the signs became frequent, warning of nets to catch people with, then poisonous gas, and rabid dogs, and flamethrowers. Each not detected, there was nothing in the woods that indicated any trap or any person had been out here, or if they had, at least not for a very long time. Each your team passed slowly, with no incident.   

The hideout now in sight, the five of you crept between trees and over bushes in formation, rifles drawn and ready. Approaching about 30 yards from your target building you stopped in your tracks at another sign nailed to a trunk.

“Hold.” You whispered, the team freezing in place as your voice came through their earpieces. You squinted at the sign.

DANGER   

LIVE MINES

TURN AROUND

Your stomach turned as you carefully lowered your weapon and reached for the hacking screen in your pocket. Something in your gut clenched with a sickening twist.

“What is it this time?” Leskow, your youngest teammate asked, voice strained to keep under a whisper.

“Mines.” You responded, fumbling to get the screen out. You could easily scan the ground to check and disable them.

“Just like everything else, there’s nothing there. Press forward, we’ve already wasted enough time.” The commander sounded annoyed, like he’s seen this trick now just a few too many times.

“Commander Morrison I really think I should at least double-”

“Agents, nothing in our intelligence reports indicated there were bear traps, or gases or _mines_. Let’s finish this mission now, press forward.” Rang his voice sternly.  

“Sir I think we should let her-” Came Leskow’s voice.

“It won’t hurt to check-” Came Liddell’s.

“Are you arguing with your commander?”

Silence.

“Forward.”

In the darkness they all looked at each other, heads turning and nodding hesitantly. You stayed rigid, silently trying to scream at them that you weren’t going to move. Against your commanders orders you expanded the hacking screen, swiping across it to scan the ground. When you looked back up your team had moved forward, bodies carefully tiptoeing through the underbrush. You moved your fingers faster, racing against your pulse. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears as you waited for the scan to finish, every sound of twigs snapping beneath boots and breathing over your earpiece sent your anxiety bubbling over. Commander Morrison scolded your last name in your ear.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Get back in formation!”  

The screen flashed back at you with red, a map ahead of you dotted like stars where each mine was in the ground. Your entire body buzzed as your fingers went numb and your stomach pulsed with a wave of nausea.

“Shit.” Came the commander's voice over the ear piece. Your hacking screen was directly in front of the body camera, hands shaking as you held it. “Fall back-!”

You heard Leskow gasp.

It felt like time paused. Your eyes shifted around the sign on the tree to see a dark ball jump in the air directly in front of her, rising to chest height. The image of her body leaned back in shock as a mine rocketed from the ground was burned in your brain before a deafening explosion blinded you shooting debris in all directions. You ducked for partial cover with a scream ripping from your throat and every pane of glass shattering on the hideout nearby. Before you knew it the force of the blast had knocked you to the ground, hitting your head hard against a tree behind.

When you snapped your eyes open you yelled in pain but couldn’t hear yourself over the loud buzzing in your ears. You couldn’t move or feel your left arm, your eyes too afraid to look down, fearing when you did nothing would be there. Across your hip and up your chest was wet, searing with sharp pains. You ran your right hand over the damp section of your body, shrapnel and wood poked through your clothes cutting your fingers as you grazed across it. You brought your hand to your face and stared at it trembling in front of you, wet blood clung to your skin and beaded down your wrist, but your mind wasn't registering that it was yours.  

There was loud static over your earpiece, you tossed it to the ground as you tried to roll your body over to see your team. Liddell, Arntz, Leskow, Noremberg. Their last names recited through your brain like a chant, you had to get to them. The explosion caused trees to collapse, bushes and trunks were lit brilliantly with high flames, shadows of bodies laid still against the ground. You think you screamed their names, but were unable to hear your own voice. You forced your body to stand against every painful jab that told you not to and stumbled towards them, body uncoordinated and numb arm hitting trees in the process.

The closest person to you was laid on their side, their face and chest an unrecognizable gruesome mess of blood and open skin. You could see through the muscles of their face and down to bone, heads of nails piercing through with the light of fire flickering against the unnatural metal. Whoever this was, their eye was missing, socket an empty blackened hole and a sheared cut along the skin lead down from forehead flapping over. Wounds that looked like they were caused by oversized scissors opened the shoulder with deep gashes, through their shirt the cuts hung open with bright red oozing down. The other half of their body was run into the dirt, ground around them soaked in blood. You covered your mouth as your stomach contents tried to escape, your head feeling faint.

Your body was shaking uncontrollably as you desperately tried to grab the mangled body with your unharmed arm to drag them away from the growing flames, but you felt their arm dislocate from their shoulder with a horrific pop, you could see the muscle tendons stretching as you pulled and you dropped the limb with rapid gasps. Your chest was sobbing, but no tears fell down your face.  

Out of the corner of your eyes you saw movement, a figure propping themselves against a jagged broken tree trunk. They shadow was shaking, staring down at its legs, or lack thereof. You fell towards them, knees buckling before you got more than a few steps. Looking towards the fire was hurting your eyes, the back of your head ached dully. Your body collapsed under dizzying pain and you fell chest down to the ground. The pitched buzzing in your ears lowered, letting in the gentle sound of flames crackling.

As your face pressed to the forest floor it almost sounded like a campfire, minus the groans and hurting screams of your teammates as they echoed through the trees. Body unable to move, you watched as flames crept towards you. Your eyes focused on a bright pink splatter that looked like bubblegum melting into the dirt. Further beyond the splatter your mind registered Overwatch provided boots with no body attached to them. You focused on your left arm laid between you and the flames. You passively thought that that the top of your arm looked like it went through a wood chipper, gashes in your skin ran deep enough that you could see through them, metal and bark stuck between the cuts mixing with your blood.

White hot panic subsided to a numb calm as you watched the ends of flames lick at your already injured arm. You closed your eyes, even though you know you shouldn’t have, and slipped into unconsciousness.    

* * *

  

After that you remember flashes.

Shouting voices of the pilot and crew when they reached the scene, the dulled sound of wind rushing past your ears as your body was carried through the trees. The commander's face above you focused on sights ahead, blond hair dirtied with ash. Your blood was on his chin, his sweat dripping through it in streaks that reminded you of tears. 

From the drop ship you remember laying on the freezing steel floor, next to a black bag shaped almost like a human, but not fully. You saw the crew shouting at each other as the bag was being zipped, but heard absolute silence.

Then you were on a hospital gurney rushing down a hallway, shiny medical scissors cutting through your clothes by green faced nurses in festive scrubs as your body shivered. You were so cold, you tried to joke and ask if they accidentally put you in the morgue but your words were coming out jumbled together, your mouth not connecting with your brain. You smelled like smoke and blood, you couldn't hear the nurses but you could hear the sound of heavy metal boots running alongside you. 

Then nothing. It felt like you had fallen asleep and snapped back up, like when you nod off while you’re sitting down and your head drops. A blink of darkness that lasted no time, and a lifetime.  


	2. Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dealing with the aftermath of the explosion, you spend some time recovering.

When your eyes fluttered open you were in a bland colored room, IV hooked into a vein at your wrist on your right and heart monitor softly beeping behind. The windows were dark, overlooking an almost empty parking lot with yellow tinted lights and big bugs circling around them. In the corner of the room was a set of ugly tan lounge chairs that looked centuries past their time, one topped with the strike commanders vibrant blue coat. Ringing from the explosion still buzzed in the back of your skull just under the sound of the air conditioner pumping through the vents and the hushed voices in the hallway through the open door.

You curled your fingers, the ones on your left barely moved, your arm was bandaged from your palm to your shoulder. You tried to move it, but the limb felt heavy and shot lightning bolts of pain as your muscles tensed. Your eyes fell to your chest, your clothes and armor were missing, replaced with a dotted blue hospital gown, the knots at the back pressing into your skin as you laid against them. You shifted, your entire body sore and unwilling to move quickly without stabs of pain.

From the hall you could see the pilot of the drop ship freeze, staring in at you. He turned to someone out of your field of vision and gestured your way with a mouthed ‘I think she’s awake’.

The commanders body curled around the door frame. Your eyes followed him until he was standing at your side. His face was cleaned of blood but was sprouting dark stubble from his jaw, his hair flat on his head greased in sweat and black ash, his armor and uniform caked with dirt and dried blood. The smell of smoke radiated from him and you had to hold back a gag.

“Great work out there soldier.” He said, laying a gentle hand on your ankle over the thin hospital blanket. “You’ve been out for almost 24 hours, how are you feeling?” You cleared your throat, voice hoarse when you spoke. You mouth stuck, dry with the taste of metal. 

“Where’s my team?”

“We had to bring you to the nearest hospital, they did what they could to fix you up but we’re going to take you back to base to get you looked at as soon as we get you cleared to leave.” You shook your head, wondering if maybe he didn’t understand your question.

“No, I want to know where my team is.” He turned and looked back to the hallway, the tired faces of the pilot and his crew watched you both carefully.

“We should talk about this when your body is more stable-”

“Commander, what happened to my team!?” You were shouting now, moving around in the bed even though it hurt. He wouldn’t look you in your eyes. “Commander Morrison!” You screamed, balling your right first. His face snapped from stitched concern to all seriousness.

“Arntz and Lidell were airlifted to a hospital in the closest city, one that’s better suited to help them. Overwatch medical teams were deployed there to meet and assess their injuries.” You sucked in a breath, knowing what was coming next. “Leskow and Noremberg were gone before we could get to them.”

You thought you would have cried when he told you, but part of you already knew. Instead you just felt numb, like the static from the earpiece you threw after the explosion had crawled back into your ear and spread through your whole body.

Your eyes dropped as you thought it must have been Noremberg who you saw half faced and unflinching when you snapped his shoulder out of place trying to carry him away from the flames. Noremberg's body was probably inches from you in that black bag on the drop ship, his destroyed face slack jawed and empty eye socket laid to rest beneath spill proof fabric of a body bag.

Leskow was the one who set off the mine. In your mind, the last image you have is a mine floating in front of her and her gasp echoing through the hallows of your skull. You guessed she was decimated after the blast, probably nothing but scattered remnants of her body littering the forest floor from being so close to the explosion.

You leaned back against the bed, eyes dulling as you stared at an old stain on the wall opposite from you. A large water damage circle, the longer you looked it the more you swore it looked like the Overwatch symbol. Waves of realization rushed over you. Your heart pounded and sent the beeping behind you into a rapid rhythm. You turned to the commander.

“I could have prevented this.” You said, eyes cold and staring into his. 

“Accidents happen-”

“ _You_ could have prevented this.” You corrected. He didn’t respond. He swallowed, bobbing the lump at his throat and eyes staring into yours.

The was the exact moment you realized he was not your commander.

The exact moment he was no better than gum on the bottom of your shoe.

The exact moment you decided you were going to scrape him against the Earth, you were going to ruin him if it was the last thing you ever did.

“Fuck you, Morrison.” You spat out.

“I know you’re upset now, but things will get easier with time, I pro-”

“Fuck. You. Morrison.” If your body wasn't so relaxed from the highest dosage of pain medication available you were sure you would be shaking like a leaf, you were so angry at him. “Get out.” You muttered under your breath. He didn’t move, instead his hand squeezed your ankle and he opened his mouth to say more bullshit. “Get out!” You screamed.

He scrambled away from you, leaving the room covering his mouth, red faced and shaking. Your chest was heaving, tears started dropping from the corners of your eyes. Now you couldn't stop. Your body was numb, but your eyes wouldn't stop. You sobbed as nurses came to check your bandages, sobbed as you pushed away any food they brought, you sobbed when the sun rose and you watched chipper nurses coming in for the day shift.

Exhausted crew members from the drop ship who hadn’t slept in well over a day now, sweaty and filthy from picking through the carnage, started crying too. They cried in the hallway, holding each other and begging to let the nurses clear you to take you back to base. They wanted to go home, they wanted to change out of clothes that stunk like forest fire and death.

Morrison appeared in the chair in your room, joining his jacket and stared dry eyed and stone faced at his hands in his lap. You refused to look at him, refused to acknowledge he existed as your tears continued.

You cried still when the nurses told you they were clearing you to travel, and all through the transport from the small town hospital to the drop ship. Your meltdown fizzled when you entered the ship, members of the crew with dark bags under their eyes helping you to a seat inside. The ride back to base you sat with a thousand yard stare, swaying with the motions as you thought about ways to take Morrison down. He approached you, trying to say something to you, pleading you think, but you blocked out his voice, your mind muffling the sound as if you heard him through a fishbowl. When he didn't get a reaction from you he sat at your side, head dropped in his hands and stayed silent next to you until the ship arrived back on base.

* * *

 

Mentally and physically exhausted you shut down as you were immediately whisked away with the medical cadets working on you, replacing bandages, checking stitches and burn marks. You stared ahead with half lidded swollen eyes, now sensitive and burning against the air in the room. Questions filled your ears but none of the words made sense, you gave them empty stares and unmoving expressions. Unresponsive, the cadets were extra kind with you, speaking softly and grabbing you gentler than you needed. They told you that you looked exhausted, that you should get some sleep then turned to talk between themselves.

"I think she's still in shock. Those small town idiots had no idea what they were doing."

"These stitches are a mess, have you ever seen anything like this?"

"We need to get her assessed fast, the lawyers are already asking if she'll be fit for duty. The strike commander will be here tonight to check." 

"She'll disappear, just like they always do." 

"Jesus, they missed some shrapnel, look at this it's still in her skin!" 

"Come on, quick." 

You were wheeled to a bright white room with horrible yellow lights that hurt your eyes. 

At some point you think you must have blinked and fallen asleep. When you opened your eyes they were no longer swollen, daylight was pouring into the room through sheer curtains. This room was much nicer than the other, it was cleaner, everything was from this decade. The only thing you didn't like about it was Morrison standing at the end of your hospital bed, scrolling through your medical chart.

“Hey asshole, you can’t look at that.” You said, medicated voice slurred with sleep. He raised an eyebrow at you.

“I can.”

You scoffed back at him. You winced in pain grabbing at your side and groaned.

“I haven’t even read it yet.” You couldn't focus on his blue jacket, the color was making you sick. His fingers scrolled to the top of the report, then turned to hand you the screen. You tried to grip it but you couldn't, and it slipped right into your lap. Your fingers were twitching, unable to curl into a fist, let alone hold onto anything. You breathed out a disgruntled sigh. "Can you tell me what it says?" You asked, gritting your teeth. He carefully picked the screen back up and took a seat next to your hip on the bed.  

“You were hit by the secondary explosion of the mine. You were lucky to be behind that tree or a ball of nails would have gone straight into your skull.” He told you without glancing at it. Your stomach did a flip, nausea bubbling back up your throat.

“I don’t even want to think about that.” You grumbled.

“Let’s see… Third degree burns on your left forearm, and across your abdomen to your hip. Pieces of metal from the explosion shredded your left arm, down to the bone it looks like. It says here ‘deep lacerations from shrapnel penetrated from true rib two down to the pelvis’.” His eyes flickered to you. “On your right, ‘true ribs three and four are fractured’. And… oh-” He stood quickly looking away as he lowered the medical chart to the end of the bed, his face turning a light shade of pink.

“What else could there possibly be?”

“It says your IUD was knocked out of place, and they replaced it with a new one.” You leaned your head back against the bed, closing your eyes.

“Get out of my fucking room.”

* * *

 

You think they kept you medicated and in bed for a couple weeks, but time was a mystery while in the medical wing. 

Sometimes you would dream about the explosion, about the roaring sound of fire engulfing you. Your mind repeating the sound of shattering glass over and over again. Other times you would dream about Noremberg. You would be eating dinner with him in the common room and would look away for brief moments, then when you saw him again he would be mutilated and missing half his face, but both of you would continue on with whatever you were doing as if nothing was different.

Sometimes you dreamed about Morrison. He would replace Leskow's figure when she set off the mine. He would be holding his head in his hands while he sat at the dining table of your childhood home. He would be naked in that hideous tan chair from that horrible small town hospital and you would watch yourself climb into his lap while ringing screeched in your ears.

You started hating your dreams, or more accurately, your nightmares. You would wake up shivering from cold sweat sticking to your skin, eyes searching the room for fire that wasn't there. One night you woke with a startle thinking you heard Lidell screaming.

It must have been very early in the morning. The smell of strong coffee was being brewed at the nurses station and wafting through the air. There was figure hunched over in sleep in a visitors chair at the corner of your room, dressed in dark colors but distinct blond hair shined against the lights from the hall. You told yourself you were still dreaming, and closed your eyes. When you opened them again the sun rise was beating against the curtains, and the figure was gone. 

You drifted in and out of sleep when you weren't in therapy building your strength back. By the time you tried to stand again, your knees were weak and your legs seemed to have forgotten how to walk. Sometimes, while you were retraining your arm on its grip or working on your knee tendons, you would see a bright blue jacket leaving as soon as you looked its way, darting from the window looking in to the physical therapy room.         

It took a couple weeks, but the first thing you did when you were allowed to wander through the medical wing on your own was try find your living teammates. The nurses wouldn't tell you anything about them, and Morrison had successfully avoided catching you awake so you could grill him.

You found Arntz in a room just a few doors down from yours, testing out a wheelchair. Half of her head was shaved with hair already growing back, and a long bandage was on her skull leading down past the neckline of the oversized shirt she was in. When she saw you, she looked like she was about to cry and she lifted her arms high in the air until you crashed into her with the tightest hug you've ever given anyone in your life. You squeezed her even though your body sparked with pain, and she cried out that she was so happy to see you, that she was so happy you made it out alive. 

"I saw you walking around out there." She sobbed. "I thought there's no way you made it, when they were airlifting me to the hospital I thought I was the only one." You cried with her, and held her face in your hands. Your body hurt from straining to hug her, you fell backwards landing on the cold tile floor and stared up, your eyes focused on her seat. She dropped her hands and touched the closed off ends of shorts. 

"Shit. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare."

"It's okay, it's still weird to me too. The nurses said I'll get prosthetics, but they're just waiting on the lawyers to talk to me? I don't know, something about liability." She played with the edge of her shirt, and the room settled to a long silence. You snapped your head up. 

"Where is Lidell's room? I haven't seen her yet."

"You-" Arntz looked at you, tears starting again. "No one told you?" 

You shook your head.

No. No, you can't go through this again. 

"Morrison... he told me they air lifted both of you, he said Overwatch was meeting you-" Arntz tried to stop the pained look on her face. 

"Lidell didn't make it back to base." She locked eyes with you. "It's just us." The numb buzzing hit your chest again, and you shook as you brought your knees to your chin. Above you she sobbed out. "We missed their fucking funerals!" 

Nurses gathered at the door, hearing Arntz shouting. They tried to bring you to your feet, they tried to get you out of the room as Arntz broke down in hysterics and cried out that it was too soon to talk to you, that she couldn't take it. You leaned heavy against them, knees feeling weak again as they dragged you back to your bed.  

After that you didn't seek her out again. You kept to yourself and watched the other people drifting in and out of the hospital wing. You watched as a cybernetic man learned to walk with a new body during your physical therapy sessions, helped by a pretty doctor who tried to over explain every step he took. You listened to the nurses when they gossiped about their bosses and coworkers, who got transferred to what department, who was sleeping with who, and on slow nights when they talked about their favorite new shows or play new songs from their phones. 

You waited for them to release you, desperately wanting to go back to your bunk and rip down that stupid article tacked to your wall to burn it. 

 


	3. Contracts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lawyers need to have a little chat with you about everything that's happened, and it... doesn't exactly go how anyone planned.

They waited to release you until all your stitches were removed, until you could grip again with your left hand as you had before. In total you think it was just under a month you spent there. The morning of your release, clothes that should have been packed away in your chest next to the bunk in your room mysteriously appeared at the foot of your bed. A nurse appeared at your door after you changed, and gently snapped off the medical band around your wrist as he talked you through your injuries and what to expect going forward. 

"If you sleep with the biotic emitters on each night for the next couple months you should have feeling again on the burned areas. Unfortunately, as I'm sure you know, they won't have any effect on the scars themselves." You nodded, he placed a hand over the mess of shrapnel and stitch scars at the top of your arm. "Your muscle tissue has fully recovered now, but if you experience any excessive twitching or tightening sensations in any of the areas you were cut, I want you to come see us okay?" 

"Okay." If you were a stranger looking down at your arms, you wouldn't think they belonged to the same person. Intertwined with the laceration scars, dark burn marks trailed along the skin on your left. You felt like it you looked at your arm long enough the scars would spell out 'Morrison'.   

You stopped staring at your arms when the nurse walked you to the double doors that left the medical wing. You offered no second glances as you pushed through them, immediately hearing your name being called on the other side. A man in a sharp two piece suit beckoned you over to him. 

"Please, come with me, there's something we need to discuss." You'd never seen this man before in your life, but you followed him. Maybe it was curiosity that made you follow him, or the last of the pain meds that were still in your system, but it probably was the two hulking Overwatch security guards that circled you before you could say no. He took you to a building across the campus. You'd never been in this one, the front walls were hidden behind trees, front doors made up of glass panels with blinds drawn to keep the light out, boring stock images of Overwatch cadets lined the halls.

He led you to a waiting room where a man dressed on the more business side of business casual sat behind a desk and shushed anyone trying to talk. Eyes turned to you, sitting in the waiting room was Arntz and three of the crew members of the drop ship. You guessed you were here to give your statement about the explosion, since you haven't yet filled out a mission report. You started running through all the things you could say to take Morrison down, started plotting exactly how this was going to go.  

You sat on an uncomfortable chair and waited. Arntz wouldn't look at you. You waited for almost an hour in near silence and then a door to a meeting room opened. Out came the drop ship pilot, his face was puffy and red eyes watering, Overwatch pins missing from his jacket and pink papers stuffed in his coat pocket as he sped past everyone, ignoring their questions asking what happened. The business-business casual man behind held his finger to his lips and loudly shushed. 

Then the crew for the drop ship was called in, all three people. They all looked to each other with concern before they walked through the door. They were in there for what felt like an eternity. You shared uncomfortable glances with Arntz when you heard incomprehensible yelling coming from behind the closed door. Your palms were sweating and no matter how many times you wiped them on your pants you couldn't talk your nerves down. This was taking way too long, something wasn't right.

Then the door opened slowly, the crew also exited without their Overwatch pins and with the pink papers. Two of them clenched their jaws and stared forward, unable to look at you. The third turned to meet your eyes, glistening with tears and looking paler then when she went in, sweaty and red covering her face with her hand. She lifted her hand and mouthed ‘I’m so sorry’ towards you, lips strained as she tried not to cry.

“Shit.” Whispered Arntz. “What the fuck is going on in there?” Her name was called from the meeting room. She looked at you with wide eyes before she slowly pushed her wheelchair in. You bounced your leg as you watched every minute tick by on an analogue clock mounted to the wall.    

Arntz was in and out in less than 20 minutes. She rolled out past you, clutching pink papers in her hands and bit her lip. She nervously glanced back into the meeting room, opening her mouth to say something but nothing came out. You watched her as she left, something in your heart telling you that may very well be the last time you saw her.

Your last name was called and you entered the room, lowering into a seat at a table that was much larger than it needed to be, across from two well dressed people who looked like they had been awake for a month. Their eyes were sunken with dark bags, and empty coffee mugs pushed to the side stinking up the room. They set two thick stacks of paper on the table in front of them. White, yellow, pink, white, yellow, pink, the patterned continued in each stack. Contracts.

There was no _'Hello, how are you doing'_. No _'I'm sorry this happened to you, we're here for you'_. One of the people dressed in their expensive suits clicked a pen too many times to just be testing it, then started with a curt voice.

“If you do not sign either of these contracts today, you will be dishonorably discharged from Overwatch and placed on the United Nations wanted list.” Hm. Strong start. 

“Overwatch wants to make it very clear that you have the option to sign either contract, however with both you are taking on the legal responsibility of never discussing what happened with an outside party. No media of any kind, no lawyers, no family, no other agents, no one with the UN. Absolutely no one. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“And you understand that if you do ever speak to an outside party about this, you will be discharged from Overwatch and detained for crimes against your fellow agents?”

“Detained? I didn't commit any crimes.”

“No, but should you feel the need to slander the Overwatch name, or the Strike Commanders public reputation you should know that we were able to obtain the video from your body camera." They clicked that damn pen too many times again. "Unfortunately, the audio seems to have _gone missing._  Do you understand what we're telling you?”  

“Morrison told us to press forward, I think that's clear without the audio.”

“The written statement from the crew does not corroborate that story.” One of the lawyers pulled out a yellow paper with a red stamp at the top reading 'CONFIDENTIAL’. “Go on, you can read it out loud.” You scanned your eyes over the scribbled handwriting. You searched until you found your name on the document about half way down.

“Upon encountering the sign, she was ordered by Commander Morrison to check the ground for mines. Resisting her commanding officer... she told her team to press forward.” You were reading it out loud slower than you were with your eyes, mind lagging in disbelief. “She purposely held back from formation. When she confirmed mines were in the ground, she did not say anything to her team, instead allowing them to continue moving forward and activate the mines.” A tear fell from the corner of your eye. The two lawyers shifted in their seats and one ran their fingers through other stacks of paper.

“Agent…” You stopped to clear a lump in your throat, eyes skipping your name. “Was heard saying the words ‘I could have prevented this’ while she recovered in the hospital, referring to the death and maiming of her teammates.” You covered your mouth, dropping the paper to the desk and pausing to close your eyes trying to imagine that you weren't reading what you thought you were. “We conclude that this was a purposeful and malicious event caused by the negligence of…” You moved your hands to cover your eyes, unable to read your full title and name written in the final sentence. At the bottom were the printed names and signatures of the pilot and all three crew members. “I didn't do this.” You choked out. “It was Morri-”

“Do you understand now that you are never to speak to anyone about this?”

In the back of your mind you heard ringing, you smelled the faint scent of fire burning on tree bark. You felt like you were going to throw up. You took deep shaky breaths, all your plans, all the truth about what Morrison did was never going to be known and there was nothing you could do about it. There was no way to retaliate against him, no way that didn't involve the absolute destruction of your own life. 

“Yes.” Your voice was little. You wiped your cheeks and stared down at the two contracts reading over the difficult language for a long time, the only noise in the room coming from your sniffling and paper turning.

The first contract would give you an incredibly large sum of money, enough to buy a home, raise a family, go on vacations. Without ever working again, it was enough to cover your lifetime twice over. It detailed that Overwatch would pay for any medical (physical or mental) assistance for the remainder of your life, right down to every pill of ibuprofen. They would cover any reeducation costs, any relocation costs, any and all relifeing costs.

The other guaranteed a life with Overwatch. Promised to increase your rank, but gave you no pay raise. You zeroed in on a paragraph sandwiched between two run on legalese sentences about housing coverage and monthly spending money. You read the same paragraph over and over again then placed a finger over it on the paper in front of you.

“Does this right here mean I would be permanently signed with Morrison as my commanding officer?” The lawyers craned their necks to check where you were pointing, pretending like they didn’t even realize that part of the contract existed.

“Yes, you have a good eye. Unfortunately, should you choose to stay with Overwatch you will be bound, for the remainder of your lifetime career here, under the Strike Commanders direct report.” So that’s how they get people to leave. These contracts were slimy, evil.

“And nothing can ever remove me from his command?”

“Barring death or retirement, that is correct, you would not be able to switch to any other teams, departments, organizations, etcetera.”

“Even if he requests it?”

“Even if he…?” They looked at each other. “No, he cannot break the contract either, no amendments can _ever_ be made.”

“Let’s focus on the positives of what you gain should you leave Overwatch on good terms.” Started the second lawyer, reaching for the other contract.  

You almost laughed, plan of revenge already forming in your head. You were going to use their shitty tactics against them, use their unholy contracts that trick people into thinking they were ever actually given an option in the first place to backfire on them spectacularly. You grabbed the pen, watching their smiles spread with relief that you were finally signing.

Then you watched their faces drop as you snapped to the other contract. They both stared at you with open mouths, eyes following your pen as you flipped through each page and initialed the line at the end of every section. They stayed in stunned silence as you signed your name as slowly and legibility as possible on the final page, taking your time perfecting every letter, memorizing the feeling of the pen sliding across the paper as you wrote the date.

You dropped the pages, letting the contract flutter closed, then flipped it around to face them.

“Let me know if I missed anything.” You said, placing the pen against the table. Neither of them could quite find their words.

“We've… never had anyone choose that option before.”

Hesitantly, they lifted their pens, signing the document at the very bottom then shook your hand, sealing your fate. They ripped out pink copies of each page, handing them to you to keep. Your curled them at your chest and shot from your seat with new vigor, leaving with a wide smile on your face and practically skipping to your room.

* * *

Contract signed, cleared for work, other agents who hadn't seen you in a month turned their heads in surprise when they saw you coming down the hall. You slid open the door the room your team was bunked in before you left on that mission, everyone's bed but yours cleared of personal belongings. You opened the chest sitting at the end of the bunk with your last name on it, stared down at your clothes and books and knickknacks you hadn't seen in what felt like a lifetime. You packed away the things on your bedside table, and the blanket you brought from home that laid across your bed, preparing to move to your new permanent room on base.  

Your eyes looked at the article tacked on the wall, with Morrison's stupid smirking face in a salute. You ripped it down, and dug through your things until you found a lighter buried at the bottom. You moved a small metal trash can to the middle of the room, and heard heavy footsteps hurried through the hall towards your door as you held the article over it. The door opened, Morrison was greeted to the sight of you holding his picture over a trash can with a lighter at the bottom. His mouth was open as if he was mid-sentence when he reached you, but he paused in confusion at the scene. 

"You're... staying with Overwatch?" His expression was hard to read, you couldn't tell if he was disappointed, or confused, or excited. 

"Mmmhmm." You responded, flicking on the flame of the lighter. He watched in silence as fire overtook the image of his face. Dead eyed, you stared at him. "I assume you know the terms of the contract." He shook his head, eyebrow raised as his eyes followed the ashed paper falling into the bin below. 

"I don't, actually. I just got the notification saying you chose to sign on for life." He held up his phone, an email with your name in the title was pulled up on the screen. You let out a dry laugh, the flames from the paper were reaching uncomfortably close to your fingers. 

"Well, Morrison. We're going to be working together for a long, long time." Article now nothing but smoke and burnt remains you threw your lighter back in your chest and snapped it shut. You pulled the handle on the side of the chest, bringing it to its wheels and dragged it to the door. "I'm going to make sure you're miserable every second of it." 

 


	4. Mission Briefing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fighting and breaking glass lead to interesting dreams, it seems.

You kept up on your promise to make him miserable. 

At first, he let you get away with the outbursts. It started with icy stares that followed him when he walked by. Mutterings of rude names under your breath calling him a liar, a coward, a monster. He accepted that you were angry, that you were grieving, so he tried to give you time. 

He slowly eased you back into missions, starting you off with desk work, then back into the field for non combat. Sent you to the training rooms to hone in your hacking skills. Even though you were difficult, he tried to prepare you to the best of his ability- just like he would with any of his other agents. 

But with desk work you rifled through his emails and messages, copying everything unrelated to the job in official reports. You tracked his time, reporting if he was even a minute late or left a few seconds too early. You refused simple orders, held meetings over time because you wanted to argue logistics, refused to call him by his official title, openly criticized his leadership skills, questioned the calls he made, the teams he put together, his ability to shoot his rifle.

You made sure to tell every single new cadet you met that Morrison hadn't been fighting in the field in years, made sure everyone you even a moment of silence with would hear you complain about him.

You started hacking into his computer when you knew he was off campus and would mess with his settings, or search through his files for anything you could use as either blackmail, for anything to take to the UN to get him discharged. It was always a bitter disappointment when you found absolutely nothing of interest.

You leafed through his paper files, finding a copy of your contract with certain things highlighted in bright yellow and his handwriting written in the margins.

You laughed when you found his agent file, tucked away in the back of his filing cabinet.

"John Francis Morrison." You said aloud to yourself when you found it, letting out a dramatic hard laugh. You crossed out the area for his nickname where he wrote 'Jack'.

"Jack Fucking Morrison." You read aloud, as you wrote above the crossed out nickname and slipped the document back in his cabinet.

Everything you did you did to annoy him, to get under his skin, to make him angry, to make him rage. No amount of petty was too petty. Every shot you had to belittle or embarrass him you took. And he still tried to help you, to his credit he really did. He set you up with counseling but you refused to go, he gently reminded you that your behavior wasn't acceptable, but you'd take it even further. He tried to be patient but you pushed him, and pushed him and pushed him for a year until he couldn't take it anymore.

His retaliation started as assigning you to cleaning duties when you got out of line. At first you scoffed and refused to do them, sarcastically replying by saying 'ooh what are you going to do, fire me?'. But then you noticed your pay checks weren't quite what they used to be. In fact, they weren't at all what they used to be, they were half. After an unfortunate blow up at a girl in payroll, Morrison 'politely' advised you that in your 'wonderful' contract you agreed to have your pay docked every time you refused to comply with 'fair punishment'.

When you finally gave in and started working the cleaning duties, Morrison would lean against the door and gloat, smirking down at you. Sometimes, if he was having a particularly bad day, or if he just felt the room wasn't quite dirty enough, he'd 'accidentally' throw in an open trash bag, or 'accidentally' spill an entire coffee in the room you were cleaning. 

"Oops." He would say each time, and each time you thought you were getting closer to snapping and rubbing the trash he threw against his face.  

 

When he switched you to combat missions, that's when things changed for the worst.

He became openly hostile towards you, uncaring if anyone else around him witnessed it. He didn't care if he made low blows, chipping away at your pride or character. He'd introduce you with the wrong name to cadets you helped train, he'd assign you to the wrong meeting room then would publicly humiliate you for showing up late to the right one. He got your permanent room moved to the one furthest away from the stairs and elevators, made sure it was the smallest one he could put you in then smugly walked you to the new one to make sure you knew he put you there.

He started picking fights when he wouldn't have before. Started compiling lists of all the things you did wrong and reported on them, just like you did. The verbal quarrels between the two of you started getting so bad, and making other people so uncomfortable, they would clear rooms and require official write ups. They would start with snide comments and devolve into personal jabs about work ethic, and results, and shit that didn't matter. Every time, both of you refused to acknowledge the elephant. The fights were never really about being late to meetings, or missing marks on targets. You both knew what they were really about. Instead of addressing the real reason you were so angry, you would talk over each other, yell over each other, huff and puff away from each other and seethe until you saw each other again and the next fight would start.   

The way you acted towards each other, it was isolating. Cadets, officers, lieutenants, they all avoided you like the plague, afraid to get wrapped up in your rage. 

* * *

 

Then there was the mission briefing incident. Of all the reports filed about both of your behavior, all the complaints about being in the same room with either of you, this was the one that topped them.   

All of Morrison's strike teams were gathered in the biggest meeting room they had. This mission was going to be a huge one, infiltrating and seizing a Talon base that Overwatch had plants in for months, it took a lot of time to plan, and it was going to take a lot of people to pull off. Morrison gave detailed run downs of exactly where everyone needed to be, of what to expect as far as resistance, and who to look out for that was on Overwatch's side.

As he ran through the list you looked at your dossier expecting to see that you were part of the hacking group needed to enter the secured areas. You recoiled when you found that you were backup on command center communications. In your place, he was sending in three new cadets to do a hacking job you knew you could do on your own. Instead he gave you a job where you're essentially watching the communications team to verify they were doing their job correctly keeping body cameras and audio lines open. You were assigned to be a fucking babysitter. 

Morrison knew you read it as soon as your face turned up to his, you were turning red, lips tight and clenching your jaw. He expected you to blow up as soon as you saw it, but you knew this mission was important. You weren't going to interrupt it like you normally would to pick a fight with him, for once you decided to wait.  

 

"So, take your time reading the intelligence report, and please, come to me or any of the lieutenants if you have questions before we head out at the end of the week." He stared down at you, waiting. Other agents shifted around in the room, uncomfortable glances at each other then to you. "Dismissed." Anyone close to you scattered out the door, eyes glancing back in the room as they passed by the windows looking into the meeting room from the hall. 

"Is this a joke?" You slammed your fist on the table in front of you, scaring some of the newbies still in the room. "Why are you sidelining me?"

"I'm not sidelining you, I'm doing this for your own good." 

"Oh, my own good?" You sarcastically retorted. Every one left in the room realized you were about to get into it with him and booked it out, some leaving their reports behind. 

"Yes. _For your own good._  Is it that hard to believe I would do something for you, and not just to upset you?" 

"As if you would do anything for anyone else, just admit you're being petty and switch me to the hackers." 

You started finger pointing, closing in on his personal space. He puffed his chest out, standing his ground. Just like always the argument turned into something else, deteriorated into petty insults and name calling. You started insulting his ability to be a leader. He got in your face about following orders, falling in line. The shouting was getting louder, voices topping each other. Agents started peeking in at the windows, worried one of you was going to start to get physical. Screams from the meeting room could be heard through the closed door and all the way down the hall.

Your arguments always danced around the real issue. the real thing you wanted to beat him down for. Now well over a year later, you weren't sure if you were more afraid to talk about it, or more afraid to hear him talk about it. Your emotions were bubbling over, and you tried to stop yourself.

But in the heat of the moment, you say stupid things. 

"I don't want to be in the drop ship with you and have to hear you make a call that's going to get people killed!" You screamed. He sideswiped everything on the table in front of him, papers and folders flew through the room in the air. An empty cup skidded across the table, coming to spinning stop. 

"I'll give you ear plugs if that's what you're so afraid of, you have to suck it up sometime! Everyone has to!" He started pacing with his head between his elbows, breathing heavy through his nose. 

"I'm never going to get over it, you _fucking murderer_!"

Oh no. No, that's too far. His face snapped to look at you and his back hit the wall. 

"I am not a mur-!" He slammed his fist behind him, fully intending to hit the wall. He almost never resorted to this kind of physical tactic, he just wanted to hit it hard enough to scare you and shut you up.

Scare you, he did.

Your world paused when you heard the sound of shattering glass when his fist hit the window instead of the wall.

Logically, you knew it was nothing like the explosion, but that didn't stop your heart from almost jumping out your throat when you heard it break into pieces, accompanied by loud screams of agents in the hallway. For a brief moment you right back on the dirt. Right back to being caked in blood. Right back to the overbearing smell of smoke. As the glass pattered to the ground in the hallway you both stared at each other, frozen. Your body felt flush, you suddenly were overwhelmed with sweat. Morrison looked shocked with himself, fist shaking with bloodied knuckles. 

Lieutenant Reinhardt pushed open the door as you turned and flew out past his large frame. He looked to Morrison with horror and confusion. 

"Wait!" Morrison yelled, as you sprinted down the hallway. You didn't know which direction you were going, you ran outside and you ran until you didn't recognize the surroundings anymore. You think you ended up somewhere between a warehouse building used by non combat Overwatch operatives and the boot camp mess hall on the other side of campus. You braced yourself against the side of the wall, shaking as your stomach contents finally pushed up. 

Then you curled into a ball, your hands running through your hair and gripping at the base of your skull. You weren't sure how long you were there for, but you knew by the time you brought your dry eyes up, the sky was dark. You wiped your face and stood with a deep inhale, focusing all your energy on just getting back to your room. 

* * *

As you climbed into bed you heard Morrison's heavy footsteps approaching in the hall. You closed your eyes, holding your breath hoping he would just pass by, knowing they would stop at your door. 

Three rapid knocks. You hit the back of your head against the wall, trying to will him away. He called your name from the other side of the door. 

"I know you're in there, I need to talk to you." 

"I don't want to hear it." You heard a light thud against the door. 

"I'm taking you off the mission." He called, his voice right up against the door. Your eyes watched dark clouds rolling in front of the stars through your window. What an asshole. He better have a good explanation for having the gall to come see you now. You let out a frustrated huff as you threw your blanket off your legs and slid the door open just enough to see his face. "Please, don't make me explain this from the hallway."    

"No shouting." 

"I don't-" His voice was already raised. He stopped himself, taking a deep breath. "No shouting."

You opened the door wider for him, letting him into your room. It felt like he took up most of the room, like his sickening blue jacket sucked up all the color. His fist was bandaged and his eyes were sporting dark bags.

You sat on the edge of your bed, inlaid against the wall underneath the window that let you watch the night sky when you woke up from nightmares. Your eyes watched as his scanned your room, taking in the bland undecorated walls.

"Why won't you put me on the hacking team?" Morrison wouldn't look at you. Coward. 

"The spies we have in Talon indicated there are fail safes for hacking interference." 

"Okay? There usually are." 

"They believe these fail safes will result in detonations. Small bombs destroying the panels and locking that floor down." You looked down at your arm, trying to will the scars to change their shape and take form of the words 'fuck you'. "After how you reacted on the last mission with explosives, I had to make a choice." 

"I can handle it." You mumbled down to your arm. 

"Can you? You went unresponsive for almost an hour on that mission, and just today the sound of shattering glass sent you spiraling." You scoffed as you stood, standing in front of him and flexing your hands. "Having you with me in the mission control room will be a danger to every agent in the field, it's not worth the risk, so you're off."

"I wasn't spiraling." You said, failing at not raising your voice. 

"No? Then where have you been for the last four hours?" He was towering over you. "With your comms turned off and your eyes all red now, give me a break. Are you going to tell me you weren't off somewhere crying like a child again?" 

God, you wanted to hit him. You wanted to hurt him. You raised your fists, and pounded as hard as you could against him, beating on his chest before he grabbed you by the wrists. Your face burned red and eyes watered as you looked up at him. His face twisted and angry. 

"I wish I never signed that shitty contract." You tried to push him, but his grip on your arms was strong and just made you shuffle your footing. 

"That makes two of us." He replied, throwing your hands to your side. He turned to leave, stopping just outside your door. "But I am sorry about today, things got out of control and I didn't mean-" 

"Bite me." You hissed as you slammed the door shut. You flipped your back to the door, leaning against it and slid down until your knees were tucked under your chin. You waited to move until you heard Morrison's boots stomping down the hall.

* * *

 

When you slept that night, a nightmare swirled in your mind.

Your cheek to the dirt and chest to the ground, unfocused eyes watched as a single tree ignited from the base. The sound of the fire crackled, and far away you heard screams like shattering glass. You tried to lift your head but it was too heavy, you couldn’t look away from the tree. The flames crawled up the trunk, curling the needles in as they fizzled into an empty black and sent paper ash flying through the air.

You were alone as you tried to scream your teammates names, but your mouth wouldn’t open. The fire was climbing further up the tree and you were useless to stop it. You felt your legs moving in fits, but you stayed deathly still. Ghostly unattached limps clawed through the dirt around you, over your body and to the tree, drawn to it like moths to light.  

Then hands, large hands on your back, pressed you against the ground. You were suddenly aware you were naked and the rocks and brush beneath you were cutting into your skin.

“I’ve got you.” An out of breath voice said. “Stay with me, I’ve got you.”

The large hands picked you up, cradled you close to their chest. Your arms folded over in your lap, unharmed, no burns, no cuts. You reached up and cradled the blank face with your palm. When you dropped the hand back in your lap a bloody dripping hand print marked your place, your blood wiggling and spreading to cover the mans features. He was running from the burning tree, but it wasn’t getting any further away, ash was raining down and covering both your bodies.

You tried to tell him something, but instead your lips parted and nothing came out. The man looked down, he brought you to his face and you kissed him until your face felt like it was on fire. The blank features pulled away and continued to stare ahead as he carried you. 

“Wait-” Your voice finally found itself. Commander jacket blue eyes turned to you, he stopped and lowered your legs down so you stood on your own. “Touch me.”

His hand went immediately for your breast, fingertips leaving scorch marks on your skin as they followed the curves of your body. You felt his hands where you didn't see them, running over your shoulders, and your hips, and your legs. His hand dipped low, blank expression watching you as fingers curled into you, immediately pumping furiously.

“I’ve got you, stay with me.” He whispered, voice strained and desperate, but mouth unmoving. You grabbed him by the shoulders, bringing him to the ground as you spread your legs and wrapped them around his hips. He pushed in you, every thrust sending stabs of pain to your rib cage. 

Sweat poured from his forehead down onto your neck, draining the blood and revealing Morrison’s face. He smiled down at you, hips continually snapping against your own. His lips kissed your cheek, his lips kissed your neck, and your collarbone and your breasts, and his lips cut your skin like razor blades with every touch. Your body tingled, and it writhed in pain.

You put your hands to his chest, and he grabbed at your wrists, moving to hold them high above your head. It felt like he was bruising you, or burning you, you couldn't tell which. His head bobbed above you, forehead pressing against yours, his skin melting off his body and revealing bright blue muscles underneath. You could hear his sighs and his groans and every twitch inside you. Your body squirmed against his, pulses ripping through you as you felt both your orgasms.

As he came, he shot miniature mines into your stomach, each exploding into fire and mangled nails, sharpened tips poking through your skin. You moaned his first name over and over again until your voice was just screams and you were sweating blood from your pores.

“Stay with me.” He sounded like he might cry. “I’ve got you.”

* * *

 You woke drenched in sweat, unmistakable dull ache and wetness between your legs. Your head hurt with loud ringing, you curled against your blankets, hiding your face against the pillow and tried to hold back dry angry sobs bubbling up in your throat.

The longer you stayed there, the lower the ringing got, ghosts of the past fading to the sound of wind whipping against your window. Your phone went off with a soft ding, then another. 

You ignored it until your breathing came back to you, then brought the dim screen to your face. 

_Jack Morrison [02:32:45]_ I didn't mean for that to happen with the window.

_Jack Morrison [02:33:59]_  Sorry.   

You forced a hard sarcastic laugh then tossed your phone to floor, listening to it come to a sliding stop on the other side of the room accompanied by another small ding. 

   


	5. Not Your Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blackwatch tries to help, Reyes gives you a talking to in the rain, we're all having fun here, right?

You woke the next morning to hard knocks and loud talking outside your door. That damn nightmare kept you up for way too long, your head hurt from lack of sleep. Already grumpy having not yet even opened your eyes, you shifted in bed, squinting towards the voices and saw your phone was still by the door on the other side of your room. On the other side of the door a voice complained loudly that you were taking too long to get out of bed, then you heard the keypad outside your door beeping and the door slide open.

“Mornin’ sunshine, we're almost late for practice. Get up now or you'll be sparrin’ with Overwatch instead 'a our beautiful faces.” Jesse leaned in, resting an arm against the door frame.

It was hard to find partners that were willing to train with you, especially after that one day you broke open a punching bag when Morrison over criticized your form in front of new cadets. So you usually you ended up training with the Blackwatch boys. They didn't seem to mind that you were angry. In fact, watching you and Genji spar became somewhat of a spectacle because the both of you would get so heated. It was nothing against the other person, you had your issues, he had his, and that made it easy to punch the shit out of each other. You liked that they weren't afraid of you, weren't afraid to walk away from you if things went overboard and reigned you back in when you got out of control.

You groaned as you swung your legs off the side of your bed and rubbed your eyes. You stood and grabbed your clothes lying next to you on the floor, pushing off your pajama shorts and shimming into your combat pants.

“Must you be like this every time we come get you?” Genji said standing beside Jesse, averting his eyes off your legs and looking down the hallway. Jesse jabbed him jokingly with his elbow.  

“Hey so, we heard the strike commander came to visit you last night, late night for the love birds?” Jesse flashed you a shit eating grin.

“Har har.” You responded sarcastically as you turned your back and threw your pajama shirt at his face.

“What actually happened yesterday?” Genji asked with genuine curiosity, eyes still avoiding your room.

“Yeah, we heard he slammed ya into a window.” You turned to give a hard glare at Jesse over your shoulder, hooking on your bra.

“He broke the window on accident.” You slipped your shirt over your head and tucked it into your waistband.

“Reyes said he heard some awful fightin’.”

“Well Morrison didn't hurt me, if that's what you're trying to find out.” Your fingers worked at the laces on your boots.

“Commander Reyes was worried about you. He said he saw you running, then no one could find you for a while.” Genji finally turned back to face you as he heard you pulling on your boots.

“I'm fine.” You replied, pulling at the loop of your laces just a little too hard to be fine. The two shared an uneasy glace as you stood, now ready for practice.

You walked out tying your hair up against the back of your head, letting the door slide shut behind you and followed the Blackwatch boys to the sparring room.

* * *

 

Jesse and Genji started first, you stood off to the side waiting to be tapped in. As you watched them wrestle each other a large hand gently placed itself on your shoulder. You folded your arms and forced yourself to stare forward.

“I don't want to talk about it Commander Reyes.” The hand squeezed you and the man attached to it moved in your peripherals, standing next to you to watch the boys spar.

“Tough shit. Do you want to me tell me why you disappeared yesterday?”

“No.”

“No?” His tone was scolding.

“I mean, it doesn't matter.” You threw your hands in front of you. Commander Reyes grunted in disapproval.

“It does matter, a lot. You're going to be a liability out there if you go radio silent like you did yesterday.” You clenched your jaw, wanting to debate but knowing he was right. “Besides, if you're going to be pissed off at anyone you might as well be pissed off at the right person. I convinced Jack to put you in the comms room with him, he wanted you out there hacking.” You stared up at Commander Reyes, opening and closing your mouth trying to say something but ended up just sputtering instead.

“Well, whatever-” You finally huffed out. “He took me off the mission anyways.”

“I may not always agree with him, but that's the right move.” You scrunched your face together in anger as you looked up to him. He wrapped an arm over your shoulders and held you tight in a side hug, ignoring your eyes shooting daggers.

On the ground Jesse was rapidly tapping. You angrily shrugged the commanders arm off you and joined the sparring, letting Jesse limp off the mats to take a breather. Genji looked all fired up, his red eyes glowing brightly under furrowed eyebrows. As you bounced in front of him getting ready to jab or dodge you tried to shake off the thought of Morrison and Commander Reyes in some closed off room somewhere discussing your mental and physical capabilities.

You rushed at Genji intending to headlock him, but he jumped to the side avoiding your grapple and grabbed your arm as you passed him, bringing it in a twist behind you. He gave you a moment to process the position before twisting harder as you struggled to get out of it.

After a few minutes of sparring with him he had you pinned to the ground. When you looked up hoping to see Commander Reyes to ask for guidance on breaking the hold, you saw the ends of a stupid blue jacket next to Commander Reyes's boots.

Your body shook with anger. You'd told Morrison months ago, very specifically, that you went to the Blackwatch training sessions to get away from Overwatch and all the people associated with it, especially him. You snapped your head up. Morrison was watching you, judging you, as he held a muted conversation with Commander Reyes. You felt a boiling anger in your stomach as you thought about yesterday, about how much you wanted to punch his dumb face but you chickened out and went for his chest.

Genji must have known something was off, but he wasn't fast enough to stop you from flipping him over and landing a true punch to the gut. You bloodied your knuckles when you hit the hard metal of his abdomen, your eyes flashing to Morrison's. When Genji tried to grab you to tell you to take it down a notch you only saw red as you grabbed and rolled with him over your shoulders. Your hands went around him and you heard a sickening popping sound, then a rush of air. You looked to his neck, realizing you had accidentally snapped one of his tubes in the back, causing his leg lights to flicker the metal to buckle beneath him.

The room settled into an uncomfortable silence as a stunned Genji thudded with an echo to the mat. Now unable to stand, he started spouting off angry Japanese at you, curse words and insults you could halfway understand from training with him for a while. Commander Reyes rushed to Genji, checking the tube to see if he could fix it.

“Training's over.” He growled, glaring up at you. He and Jesse picked Genji up with his arms across their shoulders, Commander Reyes assuring Genji they were going to head to the medical wing and get him fixed up as he shot you a pissed off glance.

Mortified and frozen you watched them carry him away, you wanted to shout an apology but realized that might just made things worse. As you were trying to collect yourself and calm your breathing, you heard slow clapping behind you.

“Great job.” Came Morrison's sarcastic voice. You snapped around to look at him, eyes burning and your teeth grinding down. It was just you two now.  

“Why are you even here?” You shouted, closing in on him. He expected you to stop in front of him on your tippy toes, maybe a finger in his face accompanied with weak insults.

He didn't expect you to use all your body weight to shove him, pushing him hard enough to send his body stumbling back until he found his footing.

Immediately his demeanor changed from cocky smirk and relaxed shoulders to balled fists and hunched as he ran at you. He didn't give you time to reset your balance, he jabbed you in the stomach then tackled you against the mat, uncaring that the blow knocked the wind out of you and the landing sent sharp aching through your back.

He kneeled on you, foot next to your hip, one knee pressed just below your bellybutton, and hands holding your forearms on either side of you hard against the mat. His stupid blue coat draped over your legs as his face snarled above yours, strands of loose blond hair hanging down over it.  

“Try that again and I’ll aim for your jaw.”

“Get off of me!” You yelled, trying unsuccessfully to squirm out from under him. It was scary how fast he took you down, scary how strong his grip was and how heavy he felt against your body.

“Maybe I should anyways.” He said ignoring you. “It might get you to shut up for once in your life.” You flexed your arms when his fingers loosened while he thought about it, but he doubled down, pressing your arms roughly to the floor thinking you were trying to hit him again.

Unable to come up with anything clever, and unable to fight back against him you used your only option.

You spit at him. You spit right at his face and your saliva landed across his chin and over his mouth. You thought he was going to recoil in disgust, release you and stumble backwards as if a volcano erupted on his face. You expected a horrified reaction. 

At most you got a flinch. His icy eyes stared into yours, and then he ran his tongue over his lips in a showy fashion that you didn't faze him. You thought you might hurl, you let out a disgusted noise and squirmed again.

“I have a mission to prepare for.” You felt his knee shift, stopping just before he was pressed between your legs. “I’m going to let Reyes deal with you until I get back, and I’m sure he won’t be kind enough to just put you on _trash duty._ ”

With a final hard push, he brought himself to his feet above you, frowning down as he watched you coughing to catch your breath. The mats shifted beneath you, his heavy boots clomped onto the floor, through the door, and away from the sparring room.

You laid there on that mat for far too long, staring up at the tall ceilings. Your mind went back to Genji, poor Genji who had only a few weeks ago felt comfortable enough with you to tell you what his brother did to him, why his body was like that. Poor Genji, who you and Jesse liked to make blush because it was just so easy to embarrass him. Surely the medical team would be able to fix whatever you did to him, but if they couldn't, you were sure how you were going to face yourself.  

* * *

 

Normally you would spend your days preparing for a mission, but seeing as you weren’t on one you had nothing but free time for the next two weeks. After a lonely lunch in the commissary, you went back to your room and cleaned up a bit, picked your clothes off the floor and set dirty ones into the bag you’d take down to laundry later, folded your clean ones and put them in the drawers at the walls. Realizing your phone was still on the floor you flipped it over in your palm finding it was dead. With a huff you placed it over the charger and waited for the battery to refill.

In the meantime, you organized the small personal things you kept on your desk. Put away folders upon folders of paper with mission reports long since completed. You cleaned the glass on the digital frame showing the first and only image you had of your original team. All clad in formal uniforms and newly pinned as strike team members, sometimes the picture made you sick. Sometimes it was because you were reminded that three of them were dead and the one that wasn't wouldn’t talk to you. Other times it was because Morrison stood directly to your left, arm around you and hand resting on your shoulder as you had a big stupid grin across your face. For now you placed the screen down against your desk, unwilling to stare at it any longer.

You laid in your bed and watched dark clouds rolling in over the blue sky. You liked that blue. Sky blue didn't make you want to vomit like certain other shades did. Down in the courtyard beneath your barracks you could see agents in groups enjoying their lunches, only a couple stories up from the ground, sometimes you could hear their laughter through the window. 

Your phone came back to life playing a light tone, then followed by a reminding text ding. You flipped the screen to face you. Morrison's last two messages you read last night still appeared, but your eyes fell to the one he sent when you threw your phone across the room. 

_Jack Morrison [02:32:45]_  I didn't mean for that to happen with the window.

_Jack Morrison [02:33:59]_  Sorry. 

_Jack Morrison [02:46:50]_  If you think you can handle being in the field, I believe you. Let's talk about it in the morning. No fighting. I promise. 

Well. Shit. 

* * *

 

Getting to sleep that night was hard, your anxiety buzzed through your body and kept you awake against your pillow until sometime after midnight.

So why do you always get interrupted while you’re trying to sleep? It’s bullshit. Rain and wind pounded on your window as heavy knocks hit your door, the clock read well past one in the morning. You glared angrily at the door, they were too aggressive to be Morrison’s, too slow to be Genji’s or Jesse's. You stumbled out of your sheets and slid open the door.

“Get dressed.” Commander Reyes had his beanie on and a big weatherproof coat zipped up to his neck.  

“Sir?” You questioned, unsure what a commander could possibly need at one in the fucking morning.

“Get dressed, or so help me I will dress you myself and drag you out of that room.” Anxiety shot through your chest and you rushed to get back into your combat uniform. Commander Reyes watched you reach for your own jacket and shook his head no.

Silently you followed him down the stairs, through empty hallways, through the sparring room and all the way to the running track outside. It was loud with rain pounding to the ground and thunder in the distance, freezing with the chilly wind against your skin. You shivered in the cold under the covered awning and turned to look at the commander, questioning again.

“Sir? Why are we out here, it’s the middle of the night?” He grabbed you by the arm and took you to the edge of the running track, forcing you into the rain.

“Eight laps. If you keep talking I’ll add more.” You hesitated, looking between him and the tack. “Now, agent!” He barked.

You took off, running down the track as fast as you could. Commander Reyes stood with crossed arms and watched every pass.

He shouted at you to count them as you ran by, and you did, your voice getting smaller each time. By lap seven, the adrenaline of being woken up with a startle had worn off and your body was fighting itself to continue, but you pushed on knowing Commander Reyes was not the kind of man to be lenient just because you were a little sleepy.

Eight laps done, you came to a panting halt in front of him, hunching over with your hands on your knees. He let you catch your breath before he spoke to you again.

“Do you know why you’re out here agent?”

“Because I broke Genji?”

“You could have _killed_ agent Shimada.” You nodded, face twisting in pain and guilt. “But Dr. Ziegler did want me to thank you for finding a design flaw she can fix, so in the long run you may have saved his life.” You looked up to him in confusion, lifting your hands to your hips and taking a deep breath.

“So then why-”

“Can you think of any other reason why you might be out here?”

Fucking Morrison. Commander Reyes saw the look of realization run across your face.

“Assaulting your commanding officer is usually enough to get you kicked out of Overwatch, but you don’t get that luxury.”

Fucking contract.

“Lucky me.” You replied rolling your eyes.

“Drop. 25 pushups.”

“Commander Reyes-”

“50 pushups, would you like to keep going agent?”

You shook your head, kneeling to the ground and starting on the pushups, counting out loud. Your arms were shaking, around your forearms you could see bruises forming where Morrison had gripped you, your body was tense and shivering from the cold and you were soaking wet. You were so tired and everything hurt, you'd much rather be doing trash duty.

Part of you thought if Morrison had been the one to wake you up demanding you go running in the rain at one in the morning you would have laughed and slammed the door in his face. But with Morrison, you had nothing to lose (save some of your paycheck).   

As you were close to 50 Commander Reyes leaned down, crouching close to you.

“Look, do I think Jack deserves to get knocked down a few pegs? Absolutely.”

“48.”

“But this can’t keep escalating, or you’re going to end up killing each other.”

“49.”

“You need to start talking to us. Blackwatch may not be your team, but we are your friends-”

“50.” You collapsed onto the ground, hiding your face in folded arms.

“Even if you did almost kill one of us today.” You shook your head as you lifted it to look up to him. If it weren't for that contract you would have switched to Blackwatch. But if it weren't for Morrison's shitty choices, you wouldn't have been like this in the first place. 

“I’m sorry Commander Reyes.” He helped you off the ground to your feet.

“It’s not me you have to apologize to, kid.” He said, ruffling your wet hair.

You nodded back at him and promised apologizes first thing in the morning. He walked you back to the barracks, letting you borrow his jacket to warm up until you reached your floor. He parted with his jacket and a comforting pat on your back.   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's another huge piece of the one shot I cut! I love the Blackwatch boiz.  
> ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*( ͡ꈍ ͜ʖ̫ ͡ꈍ )*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧


	6. I'm Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternative title: I'm "sorry", there's some apologizes but things get weird when you take your top off.

Your body was sore in the morning, hurting from not stretching before you ran in the freezing rain. You stood in your shower for way too long, just feeling the hot water against your skin and thinking about how today was going to play out. Genji first, you decided. You needed to see him first so you weren’t in a sour mood if (when) Morrison ruined it.

You dressed more casual than your usual combat uniform, black leggings with a strike team pull over and made your way towards the medical wing as soon as visitor hours were open. A nurse pointed the way to Genji’s room, and you stopped just before knocking at the cracked door, hearing voices inside.

“Just… be more careful Genji, maybe don’t practice with her for a while.”

“But then what excuse will I have to see you, Dr. Ziegler?”

Through the crack you could see the doctor's hand was on Genji's shoulder, his arm bent up and placing a hand over hers. Oh, you were definitely going to have to rib him for this later. You cleared your throat and knocked at the door frame. The doctor’s face fell when she saw you, and she gave him a pointed look before exiting the room. You expected Genji to look upset when he saw you, but he seemed almost relieved.

“Hey…” You awkwardly sauntered into the room. “So is it, you know, okay?” You said pointing to the back of your own neck as you came to a stop next to him on the hospital bed.

“I will be fine, they are just waiting on some new plates to be shipped in before they clear me back for duty.” You chewed at your lip.

“I’m sorry… for hurting you.”

“They are just parts, I felt no pain.” He lifted his head, pondering for a moment. “Except for my pride, maybe.”

“Still, Genji. I shouldn’t have done it. Really, I’m so sorry. It wasn't fair to you, and you were not the person my anger should have been pointed at. You've already been through so much and you just-” He lightly tapped your arm with his robotic fist, and you stared back at him with watery eyes.

“You are not the person who made me this way. It is easy to forgive you for your mistake, my friend.” You tried to smile back at him but just couldn’t open your lips all the way.

He was still so angry, still so hurt- but it wasn't at you. He held on to this sickening guilt and hatred for his brother that he contained in ways you didn't always understand, but sometimes the way he talked felt like he was crushing your heart like a tin can.

* * *

 

Then, Morrison. You guessed he would be finalizing the mission details he would be in his office, so you knocked at his door announcing who it was and waited. On the other side was a low inconsistent rumbling, but no answer. Pressing your ear against the door you could hear his voice.

Asshole. He was ignoring you. You tried to slide the door open and found it was locked shut. You looked down at his keypad and keyed in his ‘personal’ code, sending the door flying open. He was sat at his desk, with mission maps on the screen against his wall. Surprised to see you he slammed down the mute button on his phone as someone on the other end was droning on.

“How did you get in here?”

“The door?” You slid it shut behind you. He balled his fist and brought it to his forehead.

“You know what I mean. The door was locked.”

“Your pass code is your birthday, not exactly expert hacking.” He looked like he was going to try to retort that, but he knew it was pretty basic. Instead he pressed the button on his phone, responding to a question from a voice on the line then muting it again.

“Did you have a good time in the rain last night?” Of course he knew. He’s probably the one who told Commander Reyes to take you out so late.

“Oh, it was just great.” You sarcastically replied as you glared at him. He paused and looked to the phone for a moment, listening in and deciding he didn’t need to chime in.

“And? Is there anything you came here to say to me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well you should be here to apologize for assaulting your commanding officer, so let’s hear it.” You pretended to laugh, leaning back and putting your hands on your hips. He stood, rounding his desk to walk towards you. Voices overlapped each other arguing on the phone, seemingly unaware that Morrison was no longer participating in the conversation.

“Well first of all, we both know I don’t consider you my _commanding officer_ , Morrison.” He had his arms crossed over his chest, smug look plastered on his face. “Second, you owe me an apology too. Look at these bruises!” You turned your arms to show him the marks he left on your forearms, stretching your scarred arm closer to him to remind him that he didn’t just cause you bruises.

“You seemed pretty capable of hurting me and agent Shimada yesterday.”

“Well don’t show up in training when I’ve already asked you not to come-”

“I was going to bring you back on the mission-”

“Like I’d want to be on this hack job-”

As you argued you got closer to each other, voices raising. You wanted to push him again, you think.

“Maybe if you would focus during training you wouldn’t be so scared of-”

“Maybe if I had a commander who knew what they were doing-”

He stood directly in front of you. If you leaned forward even just a little your chest would be touching his, his body loomed over yours, so much taller and wider, blocking out the fluorescent light above you. He was trying to intimidate you, frighten you again. Your face was burning and you were balling the ends of your sleeves in your fists trying to ignore a pit in your stomach telling you to bring up the incident.  

“You’re a brat who’s pushing and shoving because she’s not getting her way-”

“Better than an asshole who-”

“And then you _spit_ on me-”

What was happening here? His hands were on your shoulders, holding as if he was going to shake you, but his fingers rested near the base of your neck and thumbs were running under the neckline of your pullover. 

“Um, commander? Commander Morrison, are you still there?” Came a voice from the phone. Frenzied argument dashed, his face seemed to snap out of an angry daze and he quickly released you to attend back to the mute button. 

“Sorry, I think I lost connection there, what was that?”

“Liar!” You shouted. He gave you a dark smirk, knowing you’d try to get something in, mute button already pushed. The voice on the phone reexplained an issue about security details and Morrison gave him the approval to do whatever the man on the other end thought was best. You turned to face the wall behind you taking deep breaths. You wanted to kick him, you wanted to stop him from leading this mission, from killing anyone else.

But when he touched you, you wanted to tell him about the dreams you have. Dreams of death and destruction that only ever ended in sex with him. You wanted to get every horrific detail off your chest and ask him why he won't even let you rest in your sleep, wanted to know you found twisted comfort in the bruises on your arms and his hands gripping at your shoulders.   

Morrison lifted the handset and asked if he could call right back. Slamming the receiver down he leaned forward against his desk and stared at you taking deep breaths through your nose then pushing them shakily through your mouth.

“So are you going to apologize to me or not?” He asked, fingers curling against his desk.

“Oh of course, I am so, so sorry Morrison.” You stressed every word in the most insincere voice you could manage. “Please, forgive me.” You rolled your eyes so hard your shoulders moved with them. He watched you, unamused.

“I don’t have time for this.” He stomped to the door, sliding it open. “Get out of my office.”

Happy to get out of this room that was feeling smaller by the second, you shoulder checked him on the way out, which he responded to with a gruff grunt and slammed the sliding door closed behind you. Now outside his office and faced with the bright halls you sucked in a breath and ignored the raised eyebrows pointed in your direction.

That didn’t go as planned.

* * *

 

You were having lunch alone in the commissary when Commander Reyes and Jesse came in. They must have come from a training session, they were both in the combat uniforms, hand towels draped over their shoulders and gleam of sweat across their skin. 

An internal panic of fight or flight knotted in your stomach, scared to admit to the commander that you hadn’t _exactly_ apologized to Morrison like he told you to. Jesse went into the line for food, but the commander made his way straight towards you and you froze with your fork halfway to your mouth, terrified to say anything. Your brain was telling your feet to run, to go back to your room, change the pass code and hide under covers until you're forgotten about, but you couldn't move. 

“How did the apologizes go?”

“Genji’s still my friend.” You sucked on your lip for a moment then cleared your throat, trying to carefully choose your next words. “And I.... told Morrison I was sorry.” He furrowed his eyebrows, giving you a skeptical look. His expression dropped and you felt like he could see right through you.

“Okay, what happened?”

“Well-” You started, placing your fork on the plate and rubbing your temples. “He just always makes it into an argument, it’s impossible to talk to him!” Commander Reyes practically collapsed to a seat across from you in exasperation.

“You didn’t actually apologize did you?”

“Technically, I did say the words ‘I’m sorry’.” He held his face in his hands, tired eyes staring back at you.

“And what did he say?”

“Get the fuck out of my office.” You puffed up your chest trying to imitate Morrison.

“Jack doesn’t curse.”

“You’re right.” You said, deflating. “He just told me to get out and slammed the door behind me.”

“You’re both acting like children.” Commander Reyes rubbed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “Enjoy your lunch, you’re doing sixteen laps after it. While I'm in charge of you, I’m going to make sure you’re too exhausted to fight.”

* * *

 

All the strike teams left by Friday. As everyone started leaving you realized just how empty and quiet the building can get without the constant buzz of people around. It was nice to have the whole weekend to yourself (and the skeleton crew of agents left behind), no line in the commissary, no loud music from the rooms around you late at night, no drill whistles in the courtyard in the mornings. The teams would start trickling back in after Monday, depending on how well the mission goes, and Morrison would be back last so you tried to enjoy every moment of peace and quiet. But your body ached from all the running and training Commander Reyes was making you do, and he only let you stop as soon as Morrison lifted off to the mission site.

“Have to keep you busy until he leaves.” He yelled at you with a shrug when you shot him a glare on what felt like your thousandth lap that day.  

By Saturday you already thought you were going to go crazy from the silence. You could only visit Genji in the hospital wing so much, organize your room so many ways, and train so many times until you were laying in your bed on the verge of yelling to the ceiling to tell it how bored you were.

When nighttime rolled around you popped into the Blackwatch common room to see if Jesse was up to anything, and you found him and Commander Reyes huddled around a small screen, leaned in listening to muffled audio. Jesse held a finger to his lips telling you to be quiet but beckoned you over to join them.

Somehow they had managed to get their hands on a screen showing the live body camera footage of the mission, over staticy comms you could hear Morrison’s voice giving the agents direction. Between them and the screen was a bottle of unopened bottom shelf whiskey. You pulled up a chair and gathered around the screen with them, curious to see how the mission was going.

“They already infiltrated the base.” Whispered Commander Reyes, catching you up.

“Got in way too easy, if you ask me.” Jesse was bouncing his leg, eyes glued to the screen. “No alarms, no fightin’, nothin’.”

“Usually we take a shot when people get, well, shot.” The commander said when he saw you curiously glance at the bottle in front of them.

The three of you watched in disbelief as the person on the body cam searched room to room, Morrison’s voice was stern and encouraging between the other lieutenants' commands and growing with excitement as they encountered little resistance. You watched and watched and not once did that bottle open. You watched until the person on the other end of the camera was shakily giving other masked agents high fives for a job well done and thanking everyone for a smooth operation.

When the camera cut you stayed in place, Jesse leaned back in his chair and the commander pushed out a big breath.

“That may have been one of the most well executed take downs I’ve ever seen.” He finally said, spinning open the top of the bottle and taking a deep sip. He offered it to Jesse, who took as much smaller one and hissed afterwards at the taste.

“It was okay.” You muttered, completely unable to hide your bitterness.

Jesse handed you the drink and you stared into it for a while wondering what those hackers must be feeling now knowing their part went off without a hitch. Were they feeling elation? Relief? Whatever it was, you weren't feeling it. You tipped the bottle a took a long sip, longer than either of the men next to you thought you would. You exploded into a fit of coughs afterwards.

“Oh- oh god that’s awful.” You said pushing the bottle back to Jesse.

“We don’t drink it ‘cause it tastes good.” Said Jesse as he stood and stretched.

“You barely drink it at all, lightweight.” Commander Reyes joked. Jesse mumbled something under his breath and tried to take a bigger sip, gagging a little on the way down. “Give him half an hour and he'll pass out, normally he doesn't even make it to the end of missions.” He pretended to whisper at you.

“Hey now-” Started Jesse, cheeks already flushing pink.

“Do you guys do this every mission?” You wondered how you've never caught them before.

“Only the ones we can get the live feeds of, so not often.” Jesse shrugged. You stood, getting ready to leave as they put the screen away. On the back of the screen written crudely in metallic marker read 'Property of comms dept. NOT you McCree!!!', you laughed to yourself as you read it. Pulling out your phone and checking the time, you started heading towards the door not wanting to overstay your welcome.   

“Stay a while." You turned to the commander, in question. "I know you have nothing else to do right now. We're just going to drink this and watch whatever's on.”

"Join us!" Jesse was holding the bottle in the air and the commander was turning the TV on, switching channels until he found a movie playing. With a smile, you plopped down in the middle of the couch. A night hanging out with them actually sounded kind of nice.

You spent the evening drinking, telling stories about successful missions, and laughing at the horrible acting in the movie. Commander Reyes kept the attention of both of you with gripping stories about some of his missions during SEP training, stories about how he figured out what being a soldier meant.

They told you about all of the ridiculous undercover disguises they've put Jesse in, and you laughed when Jesse parroted the accents in the movie horribly, to demonstrate his 'skills'. You laughed until your sides hurt and your cheeks were strained. You've been running, and yelling, and gritting your teeth for so long that you let out a long sigh when you realized just how good it felt to forget about the shit you've been through.

“Thanks for making me laugh, Jesse.” You looked down to him. He was resting his head against your shoulder, mouth gently hanging open mumbling a half asleep response.

“See? Lightweight.” The commander said next to you with a chuckle when he looked over.

“Yer a lightweight.” Came the dazed voice from your shoulder, followed by a heavy nod.

You stared back to the TV in the wall, realizing the movie had stopped playing and was now late night infomercials.

“It's been nice to have a real night off.” You gently leaned your head on Jesse's, smiling to yourself. 

“It's been nice to see you smile.” He lulled his head against the backrest. 

“Easier to do when Morrison isn't around.” You looked to him, corners of your lips lifted but only half joking. 

“Jack's not the problem.” The commander's face suddenly went serious. Your smile dropped. 

“The fuck he's not-”

“Stop. Will you actually talk to me about this?” You went silent. “What happened between you two that was so bad you can't even be happy if he's around?”

“You know I can't legally talk about it-”

“To hell with legal. I watch you both suffering everyday and I can't just sit around waiting for one of you to kill the other anymore.” He was staring down at the scars on your arm, you quickly pulled your sleeves down and balled the ends of the fabric in your fist.

“He's just an asshole.” You stared at the floor.  

“It’s more than just that. It's personal." You swallowed, mouth going dry. You wanted to answer him but couldn't. "He's an asshole to me, but I can be in the same room with him for more than 5 minutes at a time.”

“I can't talk about it. I don't know what you want me to say.” Digging in your cuticles you were trying not to think about the buzzing creeping in the back of your skull, the feelings of Morrison's arms wrapped around you running through a blazing forest. 

“Jack won't say anything about it either. Not even after I found your mission files. I asked him why your first one is completely redacted, but he wouldn't even talk to _me_ about it.”

“Seriously? You dug through my records?”  

“You won't talk to us! I wanted to find something so we could help you.”

“You can't help me.” You crossed your arms, bringing your nail to your teeth and glaring at the commander over your knuckles.  

“And why not?”

“Because it's all Morrison's fault and that asshole is the only one I can talk to about it!” You snapped.

“It doesn't _have_ to be him! We're not going to snitch on you if you talk about it!” The commander begged. Jesse was rousing at your shoulder as the arguing increased in volume and aggressiveness.

"Stop it, Reyes." You shot from the couch, Jesse fell against the backrest, eyes blinking open and studying the scene. 

“It has something to do with your scars, doesn't it?” Jesus, he must really be drunk, he's never pushed you like this before.

“What? Do you want to see them for yourself? I see you staring at my arm all the time, you know. So, what? You want to try to figure out why I hate him by the way my burns are shaped?” You felt like a fire lit in your belly and burned all the way to your cheeks.  

In a moment of drunken bold stupidness you must have forgotten who you were talking to, who you were raising your voice at. You whipped off your top, stripping down to your bra and opened your arms, twisting your body to face your injured side toward him. 

The commander's face dropped, mouth open unable to say anything back to you, but his eyes zigzaged over your midsection following the mixture of burns and scars across that dipped beneath the waist of your pants down your hip. Jesse watched you half lidded, long since over the shock of seeing the marks.

“Give the girl a break.” He slurred, before his head fell back to the couch. “Yer just upsettin’ her.” His eyes were closed, sleep setting in.

Commander Reyes quickly grabbed your clothes from the floor and placed them in your hands. Your eyes were watering, emotions bubbling in your stomach, visibly shaken and upset. 

“I-I’m sorry.” His face was tinted with red, eyes no longer able to meet yours. He turned and sped away heading down the hall towards his room. With a bundle of clothes in your hands you looked sadly to Jesse.

“Imma come see you in the mornin’, make sure yer okay.” Jesse bobbed back to sleep as you pulled your clothes over your body and stumbled away to your own room, covering your mouth with your sleeve trying to hold back drunken sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! We traveled for Thanksgiving and hit so much traffic that our 14 hour drive turned into almost 17 hours and I am exhausted! :|  
> I wrote a little on the drive though which was nice. Sorry if there's any crazy editing errors, I forgot my laptop so I'm trying to edit everything on my phone haha.


	7. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for more Blackwatch fluff, and the medal of honor ceremony!

“You smell like whiskey and cigarettes.” You covered your mouth.

“You look like you had a pretty rough night yourself darlin’.” Jesse tried to charm as he leaned heavily against your open door frame. He groaned and pressed his forehead to the wall. “It’s too damn bright in this hall, can I come in?”

You nodded, sliding open the door all the way for him and clicking off the light so the room was only backlit from the sun behind the closed blinds. Both of you sat on the edge of your bed, as he fumbled with something in his hoodie pocket and looked deep in thought.

“Did you… undress in front of us last night?” Jesse asked, squinting his eyes at you. You ran your palm over your forehead and through your hair.

“I uhh-” Your fingers rubbed sleep out of your eyes. “I was trying to prove a point, I think.”

“A point that required takin’ your shirt off?”

“He kept trying to get me to talk about this, Jesse.” You groaned as you gestured to your scars, then settled your chin in your palm. “And, I don't know. He was looking at my arm and asking about what happened, and I was getting frustrated because he wouldn't stop.” You heard him sigh heavily as he leaned back and let his tired eyes study you.

“I'm gonna tell you somethin', and your not gonna like what I have to say.” You looked to him with pleading eyes, but nodded. “You're pushin’ people away when things get even slightly uncomfortable now. We're trying to be patient with you, but these outbursts, they're gettin’ out of hand and just gettin’ worse.”

You dropped your hand to your lap, head bowed in shame that even Jesse was lecturing you.

“And listen, it's obvious that refusin’ to talk about whatever's going on is only hurtin’ you more. You know I'm not gonna push you on what happened, but you have to know things won’t get better unless you actually _try_ to get better.”  

“I do know.” Your chest felt tight, and your voice wavered when you spoke. “I know, you’re right.”

“And are you gonna do somethin’ about it?”

You stared back at him, unable to come up with any sort of answer other than averted eyes. He breathed out visibly annoyed.

“Just. Think about what you're doin' because the shit you're pullin' is effecting the people around you." He furrowed his eye brows and crinkled whatever was in his pocket. "Anyway, Gabe wanted me to give you these. Said to come find him, whenever you feel up to talkin’.” He pulled a bag out of his pocket, gummy bears made fresh in the commissary that the commander knew you usually ate as a treat after workouts. Your stomach clenched in guilt, unsure how to feel about the kind gesture after such an abrupt exit last night.

“Thanks, Jesse.” You chewed at your lip and pushed the gummy bears around in their wrapping, squishing the small bear faces against the plastic. Jesse stood with a pained groan and patted your knee.

“You know you have a family with Blackwatch, but you’re making it harder and harder to be around you.” You nodded, staring up at the ceiling, trying to will your eyes dry as he left your room. You'd never seen him look that uncomfortable before. He's always been honest with you, told you to cut out your shit when you needed it, but there was a look of pain behind his eyes. He looked at you like you were tearing him up inside and that made you almost sick to your stomach. 

When the door closed behind him you collapsed against your mattress and clicked up the blinds, watching as it rose and brought in the sunlight. The sky was vivid blue today, with long white wispy clouds that looked like cotton candy, but they were moving fast with the wind overhead bringing in dark clouds from far away. The white and blue lit by the light of midday looked a lot like Morrison’s jacket, it made your stomach clench with nausea and you forced your face away.  

You were too dehydrated and hungover for this, head hurt too bad to be acknowledging what you knew you had to do, who you needed to talk to. You pulled open the top of the bag Jesse gave you, popping one of the bears in your mouth as you held your phone in your other hand. You stayed frozen and unable to bring yourself to message the name your finger hovered over, instead you stared at Morrison’s name waiting on the screen. 

* * *

 

When you saw Reyes again, some of the strike teams had already made it back to base. You had managed to avoid him for days and were eating your lunch in the courtyard watching the drill practice of new cadets when you suddenly saw frightened eyes and whispers as the Blackwatch crew entered. Genji was up and walking with them, likely getting a feel for a new protective plate.

When the commander saw you, he waved, not wanting to intrude, but hoping for an invitation for him to join you at your table. You looked down to your food hiding your face in shame, not yet ready to have the 'I’m sorry I took my top off in front of you, sir’ conversation yet. He continued through the yard with the Blackwatch boys and you listened to the cadets conversing in hushed murmurs about the rumors they heard about the secret branch.

 

You purposefully went searching for him the day before Morrison was supposed to be back on base, knowing you should talk to him before attempting to smooth things over with the blond devil. Commander Reyes was in his office, joined by Captain Amari. You caught them on the tail end of a mission briefing meeting, Reyes beckoned you in as Amari cleared her throat and left in a hurry.

When it was just the two of you the room settled to a tense silence. You held your breath for a moment, unsure how to start. He stared back at you, body stiff and straight at the chair behind his desk.

“Commander Reyes, I am so sorry for my behavior last weekend.” You finally blurted out, face stitched with worry. “It was completely inappropriate and I should have never put you in such an uncomfortable position-”

“No need for that.” He shook his hands in front of him, stopping you. “I pushed you past your limits, even when I knew it was upsetting you.”

“Still, I should have never taken off my clothes in front of anyone, let alone a _commander_.” Oh god this was awful, you wanted to hide under a rock, or run away as far as your legs would take you. Reyes lifted his eyes to the ceiling, purposefully looking away from you.

“Let's… move past that and onto the real issue.” You filled your lungs slowly, trying to delay having to talk about this. “I've seen the path you're going down before, and it only leads to self destruction.” You nodded hesitantly.

"I know, even Jesse's worried about how I'm handling things."

“Good, hopefully that means you understand that we're just trying to stop you from hurting yourself or anyone else around you. We need to come up with some sort of plan for emotional management, or therapy, or-”

“I'm going to talk to Morrison about it.” You interrupted. “If that's alright, sir. I think I need to start there.” He lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

“That's just going to end up in another screaming match.”

“No. No, I don't think so. We always end up fighting because we're both avoiding talking about anything real, about what happened. If I'm going to move forward, I need to address the person directly involved.” You were playing with the hem if your shirt. “I don't think I can get closure if I don't.”

His dark eyes watched you, tried to read your expression, tried to interpret the way you were shifting your weight from one foot to the other and folding yours arms in front of you. When he watched you like this it felt like he could see right through you, like all your secrets were written across your skin and he was reading every single one.

“You're sure you want to talk to him about it?”

“I don't want to.” You said quietly as Reyes stood and approached you, stopping on the other side of his desk to lean against it. “But I have to, otherwise you're right, things will only get worse.” He opened his arms low at his sides. He could tell how deeply it cut you to admit that you needed help from the one person who you'd normally go to great lengths to avoid. 

“Well, I'm here to help if you need anything, I hope you know that.” You wedged your arms under his, and he hugged you tight.

A knock on the door came from the hallway, Jesse's you guessed.  

“I know.” You mumbled against him. You squeezed around the base of his rib cage before breaking the hug. “You've always been there for me commander, you and Blackwatch. Thank you, really. If shit goes sideways you'll be the first person I reach out to." 

He smiled down at you as his door slide open, Jesse and Genji peeked in their heads curiously.

“Are we all on talkin’ terms again?” He eyed you and Reyes.

“Come here.” Responded the commander gesturing for both of them to come in. They gathered at your side. “Our girl has decided she is going to actually have a civil conversation with Jack.” They looked at you surprised, and nodded in silent approval.  

“I promise, no more lashing out. I don't like hurting you guys.”

Jesse landed a hand on your shoulder.

“Speakin’ of, Genji's all fixed up now, we can get back to mornin’ practice.” He smirked at Genji who responded with a glare to Jesse and a nod to you.

Jesse continued talking to the commander, saying something about upcoming sparring sessions. You took a moment to smile to yourself, watching the way Genji's facial scars stretched with his cheeks when he looked through the group, the way Jesse stood with more confidence than you knew he had, the way the commander leaned against his desk and eyes darted between his phone and you. You stayed for a few moments, enjoying the moment of normalness before Jesse and Genji dragged you away to show you the new plate on his neck.  

* * *

The next day you were minding your own business walking back to your room after an all day training meant to keep you sharp on your hacking skills. Your eyes hurt from looking at the screen so long, wrists stiff from not moving more than a few inches and you were cracking your knuckles when you rounded a corner and almost crashed into a wall of blue and blond.

Morrison stopped in front of you, perfectly groomed with every hair in place and his travel bag slung over his shoulder, he stunk like the drop ship. When his eyes first met yours, his face twisted in visceral disgust and anger, but after a moment it curled into a sick smirk. He leaned forward, bending down until his face was in front of yours.

“Missed you on the mission.” He sarcastically cooed at you. You grimaced in return. “Heard you had an interesting time without me here.” His voice was lowered, ensuring no passer bys would hear him.

Shit. How much did Commander Reyes tell him? You opened your mouth to say something, but he shushed you.   

“Save it. I've been told you and I are going to have a conversation.” He stood back to his full height as you sucked in your lip, holding back a hateful retort and breathing deeply through your nose. “I’ll let you know when I’m free.” He shouldered past you, continuing around the corner and down the hall.

* * *

 

You lived in anxiety over the course of the following days waiting for Morrison. You knocked at his office, used his code to open the door when he didn’t answer only to find he wasn’t in there. You texted him with no response, asked Reyes where he was hiding but he would change the subject, tried to find him during strike team sparring sessions, but he was always one step ahead of you managing to avoid you for days after he arrived back.

Then you got the news that a pinning ceremony was happening to honor those who lead the mission you weren’t part of. It came as an early morning base wide notification indicating anyone on the campus Friday was expected to attend in the audience to honor the heroism and bravery of your fellow soldiers. You looked through the names of those being honored. Four cadets, a combat medic, a captain, two lieutenants, and Morrison. Fucking. Morrison.   

During morning training that day, while Jesse had you in a knelt headlock Reyes chimed in, you expected to correct your form, but instead reading off his phone.

“They’re holding a celebration after the ceremony Friday.” He sounded completely blasé, almost annoyed. “All the strike teams are invited. You going?” Reyes gestured towards you.

“Ugh, no. Those parties are awful, they're just a bunch of brown noses getting drunk and sucking up.” Jesse gripped you harder and you spread your footing, readying to flip him over.

“Tighten up your hips otherwise you’re going down with him.” With a grunt you adjusted your stance and flipped Jesse onto his back against the mat. “You should go. Jack asked me not to say anything, but he’ll be there and I’m sick of helping him avoid you.” With a huff, you stood.

“You’ve really been helping him?”

Reyes shrugged at you.

“He doesn’t want to talk about it either.”  

“Still, I shouldn’t go. I don’t think a party is really the best place to talk about… what we need to talk about.” You felt Jesse wrap his hand around your ankle, and you looked to the ground to meet his eyes.

“We can join you, at least get a conversation started. Might make it easier.”

“I don't need babysitters to make sure we don't start fighting.” You helped Jesse to his feet. The commander was tapping away on his phone between flashes to you.

“I told him you're going.”

“What the fuck!”

“Language, agent.” He stared down nonchalantly at his phone, he’s never cared about your cursing. It was just easy to get a rise out of you and he thought it was funny when your voice raised in pitch when he poked fun.  

“What the fuck, _sir!”_

“We're gonna help you talk it out, whether you want us to or not.” Jesse chimed in as he prepared for the next sparring move. You stared at him longer than you meant to, standing on the mat as if your boots were made of lead.

Your mind raced with all the things you wanted to say to Morrison, the pain he's caused you, the pain he's caused others. Your core hurt, knotted in gnarled roots that tightened with every memory flashing behind your eyes. The static from the ear piece you threw during that first mission felt like it filled your stomach, and you just watched Jesse with glazing over eyes as you tried to will your body to move and accept that you were going to do this, that you had to go through with it, and they were going to make sure you did.

"Let's do this, you got it." He held out his hand to you, breaking you from your blank stare and snapping you back to the moment.

* * *

 

You hated putting on formal uniforms now. Overwatch provided you with three of them, one in all black for funerals, one in navy blue with a matching baret and lapel that had all your pins and honors on it, and one a brighter blue used only for television appearances (you haven't had to wear that one yet, thank goodness, the color matched Morrison's jacket and you had to hide it at the back of your closet after you woke in a fright one night and your mind tricked you into thinking he was standing in your room). You only ever wore your formals now during pinning ceremonies, ones just like the one honoring Morrison.

Begrudgingly you forced your way into the navy suit, tucking the stark white button up shirt into the pants that were definitely a thicker material than they needed to be. You struggled with the tie in the mirror for several minutes before you had to give in and search how it was supposed to be done. You smoothed out the jacket front, making sure your pins were straight and angling the hat just right. With a last deep breath, you eyed yourself in the mirror before you left your room and snarled at the image reflecting back at you.

 

It was hot in the audience. Mostly because of the thick suit, but at least you weren’t alone in your misery. It was a sea of navy blue, everyone from commanders to cadets mixed in the crowd. You sat on the end of the third row, fiddling with the sleeves on your jacket hoping to get some sort of air flow to cool you down. The pinning ceremony felt like it lasted a lifetime. Too many people gave long speeches, and half of it wasn’t even related to the mission.

At the end Morrison spoke, giving a rallying speech that you would have loved if you were still a newbie who didn’t know better. You rolled your eyes during thunderous applause and hunched against your seat as everyone started emptying the audience. He searched the crowd as he left the stage, his face finding yours and curling in disgust when he saw you sarcastically slow clapping at him. On his way out, Morrison was barreling down the aisle past you, power walking with long strikes and heavy boots shaking the ground. 

“Tonight.” Came his voice, deeper than normal. His eyes chilled you to the core as they flew by with an intense locking stare.

“Tonight-” You started, rotating in your seat to follow his body as he passed.

He was gone so quickly you didn't even have a chance to question. You sat turned the wrong way in your seat with raised eyebrows pointed your way and your pulse pounding in your ears.

You weren't ready for this. You'd never be ready for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still editing from my phone, again sorry if there's any crazy errors!! We're heading back home so I have another very long drive ahead of us, hoepfully I'll get more writing done on the way <3


	8. Let's "Talk"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Morrison try to work their shit out and it... works?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Long chapter ahead, I had a lot of time on the road trip back home so I went a little wild! Haha  
> Just a heads up, there are pieces of the one shot mixed in with this, so some of the dialogue/descriptions may seem familiar :)

Morrison and the honored crew arrived at the celebration to rounds of cheers and pats on the back. Strike team members who participated in the take down but were not honored gladly welcomed them to the celebration, happy to have even been a part of the mission that was sure to help advance Overwatch's efforts far beyond what they anticipated before. 

The Blackwatch boys stood out like sore thumbs between all the matching navy blue uniforms mingling in the largest common room on base. You stood as far away as you could from the door, as far away from Morrison as you could, too nervous to eat or drink fearing your stomach would reject anything you forced down. All in black, Jesse joined you at your side trying to get you to laugh, telling some bad joke you were sure he picked up while he was still in his gang, but nothing was working.  

Jesse grabbed your hand squeezing your fingers and you looked to him with wide eyes. He had worry written all over his face.   

“Geez, you look like you're about to hurl.” He gently leaned against you. “How bad do you really expect this to go?” Fear, bitter anger, and hurt mixed in your stomach sitting like a rock sinking you further to the ground.

“I'm not sure, Jesse.” The words left you shakier than you thought they'd be, you cleared your throat trying to play it off. “We've spent so long just fighting each other, I don't know if we're going to be able to work this out.” You looked up and caught Morrison with his eyes cast your way, he was talking to Commander Reyes who was all smiles. Your stomach jumped, or your heart did, you couldn't tell which. "What if it just makes it worse?" You shifted your face back to Jesse, catching a glimpse of Reyes turning to look where Morrison was staring. 

"Then we'll burn that bridge when we cross it." 

"That's not the phrase, Jesse." You said, finally letting out a small laugh. He squeezed your fingers again and you gripped him hard as you saw two people approaching you from the side of your eye. Tall frames lingering above the crowd, one in a black beanie, the other radiating a sickening blue. 

"Good evening Commander Reyes." You addressed to the black beanie, not turning to face him so you could pretend Morrison wasn't there. You heard Reyes clear his throat. 

"Play nice." He said low, you weren't sure if it was to you or Morrison, but you looked his way and saw Morrison was staring at the ground also avoiding looking at you. 

"Hello, Morrison." You finally pushed out. 

"I am your commanding officer, not Gabe. You should be addressing me with my formal title." He snapped at you. 

"There's plenty of other things I could call you-" You ripped your hand from Jesse's, bringing a pointed finger to Morrison's face. 

"Don't you start this already-" 

"Hey!" Reyes barked out between you both. "Not here." He lowered to a growl as you backed off. Uncomfortable stares around you were pointed in the direction of your ragtag group, others immediately putting their drinks down and heading out the door wanting no part in a fight between you and Morrison.

Reyes roughly brought a hand against Morrison's back and announced they were going to make the rounds to thank other agents for coming. As they turned to walk away he shot you a disapproving look that gave you this strange feeling he'd be sure to make you go running until your legs fell off. You heaved a sigh and collapsed against Jesse's back.

"This is going to be such a huge mistake. Please just take me out into the courtyard and shoot me now, I don't want to deal with this." You heard him chuckle. 

"Sorry darlin', you're not gettin' out of this that easy." He turned, wrapping an arm around you and guiding you to lines of couches that had been haphazardly pushed against the walls to give more standing room for the party. "And 'sides, who would I steal desserts from at dinner time if you're not here?" 

You sat with Jesse and listened to conversations of agents nearby talking about their own drama. Jesse brought you a drink if the hopes that it would calm your nerves, vodka you think from the smell, but you placed it at your side and didn't touch it. He sipped his and you watched the crowd of people swell, then trickle out as the night went on. At some point a lull in the conversation must have bored Jesse to the point that he laid his head down, you looked over and he was leaned against the arm rest, mouth open and drooling. 

"This kid really needs to get a handle on his liquor, he'll fall asleep anywhere." Commander Reyes appeared in front of you with his hands on his hips staring down at Jesse. 

"You weren't kidding when you said he was a lightweight." 

He wrapped an arm around Jesse, leaning him against his frame so he was standing, but Reyes was carrying him. 

"You're not off the hook. I'm taking this dead weight back to the Blackwatch wing, but then I'm going to get you and Jack in a meeting room somewhere." He paused before he turned to leave. "Maybe somewhere without windows." He smiled at you and you groaned into the couch, turning your attention back to the dwindling groups still left. 

Across the room you saw a bright blue coat leaned against a wall, his legs crossed over and cracking his knuckles in front of him, Morrison was staring right at you. He looked comfortable, alone. He looked like he'd been there for a while, just waiting for an opportunity. As soon as you locked eyes with him, he froze, his face tinting pink and he shook his head.

He pushed himself from the wall and walked towards with determination, his sudden movement brought you out of your seat- it almost looked like he was charging at you. 

"Are you ready?" He asked you with strained neck muscles. 

"No." Your response was immediate. "We should wait for Reyes." You looked around the room, everyone else was either too drunk or too tired to care how close Morrison was to you.

"I can't wait anymore. I need to talk, now." His eyes had vivid vanes in them, red from lack of sleep or excessive stress, the bags under were more prominent than usual, puffed out more than they were on an average day. Some of his hairs were out of place, sticking up from static. He looked exhausted. You swallowed the spit building up in your throat. 

"Okay. Okay, Morrison. Should we head to a meeting room?" 

"I don't want anyone to interrupt us." He took a deep breath. "Please, no arguing. Just follow me."  

You relented, nodding as you followed him out of the common room doors and through the halls. The pit in your stomach grew with each step, knowing as you went through the elevators doors that you were heading to his room. You both stood as still as possible, avoiding looking at each other, bodies stiff through the ride. You wanted to say something, wanted to start screaming at him the moment you were alone. You tried to open your mouth but it felt like it was glued shut, like your jaw was refusing to unclench.  

At his door he keyed in his code, and it slid open. You hesitated before following him in, knowing that when you did you were committing to finally unleashing over a year's worth of pain on him.

 

His room was boring, kept at military standards he didn't need to follow anymore but probably did out of habit. It was bigger than yours, probably about three times the size you guessed. In addition to a bedroom and private bathroom he had a small living area decorated by a barren bookshelf, a small kitchen with only the basics, and a small two person table tucked against the wall under an ugly analogue clock.  

“If you get my floors dirty you'll be cleaning them yourself.” Morrison said with a nod towards your feet as he bent down untying his dress shoes next to his door. You stood for a moment, debating on purposefully grinding your shoes against his carpet just to piss him off. Instead you deeply inhaled and heeled off the matching shiny uniform shoes, placing them perfectly lined together next to his.

He shrugged off his bright blue commanders jacket and hung it neatly on hooks in the wall. You had to pull your eyes away from it, staring it was making your head feel light. Without the attention demanding jacket you realized Morrison was dressed exactly as you were, matching navy blue suit coat and dress pants, with a white button up done up all the way and a black tie tucked into the jacket. Seeing it made you uneasy, a reminder that he could look normal, he could look like everyone else. You could hear him swallow hard as he walked by you as he headed towards his kitchen.

You stood with one arm holding the other, intensely watching every move he made like he was going to suddenly attack you if you looked the other way. Your back was stuck to your shirt from sweat and you shifted uncomfortably before deciding to take off the heavy formal uniform coat. Carefully you unbuttoned and slipped out of the sleeves, folding it over your arm and holding it close to you. Morrison turned to you as he rummaged through a cabinet, reaching into the highest one.

“There’s an extra one if you want to hang that.” He motioned towards an empty hook next to his jacket. Glass clattered in the cabinet as he returned to it, and you hesitated to lift your coat to hang. It felt too familiar, too comfortable. Instead you folded it again so it was a neat square and gently put it over your shoes on the floor.

He placed two heavy glasses on the table then opened his fridge and dug through to the back until he reached an intricate glass bourbon bottle, missing what only looked like a few sips worth. Before coming to the table, you heard the telling sounds of a belt being undone and glanced at him while he pulled it from his waist then placed it on the counter next to him.

“I didn't know you drank.” You said as you stood behind one of the chairs in the kitchen, leaning your body weight against the backrest.

“I don't make it a habit to inebriate myself in front of my teams.” He set down the bottle on the table with a loud thunk. “Unlike another commander we know.” Your ears burned, muscles clenching with embarrassment.

He sighed as he dropped into the chair across from you, unbuttoning his navy coat and draping it on the backrest behind him. You stood leaned against the chair, nails digging into cuticles and eyes watching him but unable to meet his face. He was slouched back against the chair, pulling off his tie and loosening the collar and throwing his beret and tie on the table in front of him.

“Will you sit down?” His tone came out harsh, hints of anger accentuating his hands balling into fists. You gripped the back rest, right on the verge of telling him not to order you around, but instead you bit back your pride and rounded the side to sit with a huff while you crossed your arms.

Morrison spun his hat slowly on the table, hoping to find the way to start this mess of a conversation written on the side.

You felt like you were going to explode, over a year's worth of rage and pain leading up to this moment, every dig you've ever made at him, every passing insult, every night you've woken in a sweat with aching between your legs after nightmares about him and death were slowly creeping up your tongue to strike him.

He twisted off the cap of the bottle and poured into one of the cups in front of him, filling it about half way. He pushed the bottle towards you and brought the glass to his lips.

“If you need any courage.” He raised his glass toward you in a mocking cheers with a dry expression. You stared at your empty glass and the bottle, unmoving as he dipped his head back to drink excessively large gulps until his was empty. He stared back at you, cold eyes silently judging you for judging him.

“Well, where do you want to start? The beginning? The mission? You taking your shirt off in front of another commanding officer?”

You let out a hard laugh.

“I think I know where you want to start.” Okay, maybe you would take that drink. You filled your glass about half way. Before you grabbed the top to twist it back on, you locked eyes with Morrison and brought the tip of the bottle to your lips, taking a long sip directly from it instead of your glass before you capped it. You sucked in a breath through gritted teeth at the burning as it went down.

“Do you want to explain what you were doing in the Blackwatch commons after hours?” He said, unamused by your stunt. 

“I was spending time with the only friends I have on this base, _Morrison.”_

“It is a complete disregard for basic Overwatch guidelines.” He said bringing a pointed finger hard against the table. “Fraternizing after curfew, drinking at an unsanctioned event, unauthorized viewing of a closed circuit high priority mission- don't you look at me like that, yes I know about it- throwing yourself at a commanding officer, improper use of military resources-”  

“ _Throwing myself at a commanding officer?”_ You scoffed. “Is that what Reyes told you? I can guarantee you I was not _throwing myself at him._ ”

“He just said you took your shirt off.” Morrison mumbled as he circled the rim of his empty glass with his finger.

“Oh, is that right? Well since your best friend seemed to have conveniently forgotten to mentioned it, he was trying to get me to talk about these lovely souvenirs you left me with.” You sarcastically riled at him, twisting your arm and pushing up your left sleeve until your scars were visible. His neck muscles tightened, he looked the side in anger then brought his fingers up to rub circles on his temples.

“Gabriel.” He groaned. “I’ve told him so many times to not bring it up.” He moved to his eyes, rubbing in frustration. After a few circles his face snapped up. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing! I'm not willing to go to prison because I blabbed to Reyes.” Morrison sank in his seat, with relief. You sipped your drink, chewing on your lip afterwards as you studied your scars, trying not to outright accuse him of being a heartless murdering sociopath. He leaned forward, unintentionally scooting the table closer to you, and inhaled then held his breath for a few seconds.

“Okay. No fighting. No name calling. No pushing or screaming.” He finally said.

“You're the one who always turns it into a screaming match." You mumbled into your drink. He let out a hard, sarcastic laugh.

"We both know that's not true. You're the one with the temper."

"I'm not the one who broke a window."

"It was clearly an accident, and you're the one who got physical-”

“Yeah but I don't leave bruises-”

“You spit on my mouth-”

"You deserved it.”

“My medals of honor mean I don't deserve to ever be spit on-”

“And there it is, you're always feeling this need to brag to me about everyth-"

"Like I need you to feel accomplished-"

"Maybe you're just trying to overcompensate-"

"Shut up!" He slammed a first on the table, sending ripples of your drink over the edge of your glass.

He lowered his volume. "Could we try to have just one normal conversation? It doesn't always have to be so _fucking difficult_."

You sucked in a breath, the sound of the first curse word you've ever heard him utter spilling from his lips was so abrasive to your ears that you thought it might blow you out of your seat. You stared at him in the silence unsure why you were trying to catch your breath. In the silence he twisted off the cap of the bottle again, and flicked it across the room. You watched as he poured another drink, filling it almost to the top this time. 

“Why didn't you let me check for the mines?” You finally said so quietly it was almost a whisper, eyes watering. You watched the lump bob at his throat. He responded with eyes avoiding yours and taking a long sip from his glass. You closed your eyes and placed your elbows on the table, covering your face with your palms, trying to focus on not breaking down.

“I..." He was focused on keeping his breathing steady. "I thought it was another decoy. I truly, honestly, did not believe there would be anything there. When intelligence did their preliminary we were told omnics were terrorizing the neighboring town with juvenile tactics. Rocks thrown through windows, spray paint vandalism, that kind of stuff.” He paused, your face was still buried in your hands, but you could feel his eyes on you. “The drop ship crew was exhausted that day. Apparently they hadn't been back on the base in over two weeks at that point. The mission was already taking twice the time it should have because we kept stopping to double check.”

You were catching sobs in your throat, lumps of every emotion you've been through trying to push themselves to the surface. 

“But,” He continued. “I should have never let my impatience get the better of me.”

“Your impatience got three people killed.” You snapped, hiding behind your fingers.

“I know. I'm living with that everyday. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about them. Every time I see you, every time I see your scars, I'm reminded of the horrible choice that I, and I alone, made.”

Your clothes felt like they were choking you. Rolling your eyes hoping to stop tears from dropping, you ran your hand up your face, pulling the bobby pins from your beret and setting your hat on the tabletop.

“You made the right call.” His voice was quiet. “Staying behind. To check.” A tear dropped from the corner of your eye as you pulled the tie off your neck in a frenzy, and undid the first few buttons on your shirt with a deep breath.

“If you admit it why can't I talk about it! Why have lawyers threaten me with fake blackmail if you know you fucked up?!”

“I wasn’t a part of that!” He yelled, gripping his glass so hard you thought it might shatter in his hand.

“Like hell you weren't!” You shook your tie at him.

“Your contract was the first one I've ever been able to read. I didn't know-”

“What you didn't know they were going to pin my teammates deaths on me?”

“No! I would have never-”

“You wouldn't have done anything, poster boy! I've heard the nurses talking about how other people you've injured have disappeared after being on a mission gone wrong under you, probably with the same bogus stories!”  

“I tried to tell the truth!”

“No you didn't, you coward!”

He stood abruptly and took a long sip of his drink, giving you the 'stay here’ hand. You twisted in your chair to watch him as he placed the floor with his head between his elbows. His face was scrunched in debate, he wanted to tell you something but chewed at his lip trying to stop himself. 

“Right after you signed on with Overwatch permanently, do you remember that I was gone for a week?”

“Of course. Reyes was in charge of me because no one knew where you went or what to do with me.”

“After I read your contract, and those stipulations it had I went to the lawyers. I tried to get it reversed, I tried to tell them what happened.” He put his hands on his hips. "I told them I wasn't going to do anything until they changed it, I spent days in that awful legal building fighting with them. I didn't want you under my command, I was terrified of you. Of what I did to you." 

You tried to dig your nails into the glass you were holding. Your entire body tensing as you listened. 

“Then they told me about the video. About how the crew signed that false testimony. They told me what happens if I talk, if I try to make it right." He ran a hand through his hair. "Do you know if either of us talk about what happened it's the same consequences, but I have an extra one tacked on?”

“Discharged and imprisoned, what else could they possibly do to you for telling the truth?” You watched Morrison take another deep shaky breath.

“They won't do anything to me.” He sat back down across from you and his icy eyes stared right into yours. “If I talk to anyone about it, yes, you'll be discharged and imprisoned but then they'll seek the death penalty on you. They showed me these documents that said you did everything, that you did it on purpose. It looked so real, I would have believed them if I wasn't there myself. Please. Listen to me, I tried to do the right thing. I didn't know Overwatch would go to these lengths to protect me.”

“You're lying.” Tears openly streamed down your face, as you squeezed it together in anger. 

“I don't have proof of their threats, but I do have my contract stapled to yours in my office filing cabinet, which I know you went through by the way.”

You were silent, a mixture of emotions crushing in your chest. He waited for you to say something, but you couldn't. You came here to yell, to call him names, to make sure he knew he was a murderer. You didn't want to hear excuses of a tired crew or lazy commanding, in the end it still got your team killed. 

"I know I've ruined lives. I made decisions that got your people hurt, got you hurt. Decisions that got people killed. That's what being a strike commander is." His face was serious, eyebrows stitched together. You looked down, realizing you were griping at your shirt above your scars. "Since that mission I haven't had so much as an injury on my watch. I know you don't care, but that mission has made me more careful. I'm never going to make the same mistake again.”

You squeezed above the knot in your stomach. Balling your hair with your other hand at your scalp as you tried to articulate your thoughts.

“So, what? You knew about the shit they told me and you still decided to consistently be an asshole to me?” You threw your hands in front of you.

“You were acting like a brat! Like a child who had a tantrum if I even breathed your way!”

“You're unbelievable!” You dropped your head back, downing the rest of the drink in your glass in one fell swoop. “You're not even fucking sorry! You're just telling me all this to get me to feel bad for you!”

“I don't want you to feel bad for me, I just want you to-”

“You can't even say it!”

“Say _what?”_ He exasperatedly gestured towards you. 

“That you're _sorry_.”

“You didn't say sorry for spitting on me-”

“Say it.” You said, voice enunciating every letter.

His eyes dropped to your arm, scars peeking beneath the rolled up sleeve. He wasn't saying anything, wasn't making a noise. Minutes passed and you sat in silence, the only sounds being your occasional shaky breaths as you watched him chewing on this inside of his cheek and bouncing his leg, intense eyes focusing in on yours. He wasn't getting off the hook. This is what you needed. This is what you needed to hear him say. And if you didn't get it then that was going to be the flip, you were going to smash this bottle against the table and rip open his throat right here. 

When he finally spoke, he started with your name. Not your last name, like the way he normally referred to you when he didn't refer to you simply as 'agent’. But your first name. Your first name left his lips for the first time you ever heard him say it, pushed from his lungs almost as if he was pleading. Almost on the verge of crying. 

“I'm sorry. I am truly, deeply, sorry for what happened to you, to our team. For the destruction to your whole life, for being forced to be with me for rest of our time here. I'm sorry for what Overwatch has done to you, I'm sorry for bruising your arms and devaluing you at every chance I got.” You stared back in stunned silence. "I'm sorry." His voice was a whisper, eyes closing as he covered his mouth with his hand and one of his legs bounced beneath the table.   
  
You paused, taking a few beats too long trying to find any words, you felt lost in confusion unsure if you wanted to flip the table and scream, if you wanted to jump across the table at him, if you wanted to completely break down in tears. There was a feeling spreading through you, a release of emotions you had been hanging onto for so long and you were scared to admit how good it made you feel just to hear him finally apologize.   
  
"Suddenly now you've got nothing to say?" He laughed coldly to himself. "I don't think there's anything I could say that would make you not hate me." His voice was heavy as he ran his hands over his face. You chewed at your lip, staring at the table as you blinked back your emotions. "A year of screaming and fighting and all it took to get you to shut up was a sorry?" He scoffed. "I should have said it long before now then, even when I wouldn't have meant it." 

There's the Morrison you know. Bitter and vindictive, saying anything he could to cut right into open wounds.    
  
“If you're not going to contribute to this then I'm going to get some sleep. Unlike you, I had work to do all day. If you have anything else to say you better say it, now." You stayed silent, staring at your empty glass. He was riling you up again, your eyes were drying from anger. 

"Fuck you."   
  
“Nice.” He rolled his eyes as he stood, downing the rest of his drink and taking the two empty glasses to his sink.

"You're a monster." 

"A monster who just made a mistake!" He said slamming down the cups. You heard the glass bottoms crack when they made contact against the metal of his sink basin. A lightning bolt of panic struck through you, and you gasped. "I-I'm sorry!" He said immediately turning to you. "Are you okay? I know that noise-" 

"No, I'm _not_ okay Morrison! You killed my team! You scarred me for life, more than just physically! I haven't talked to Arntz in over a fucking year, I'm pushing away the only people in my life who give a shit about me because I can't handle anything in my life normally, you won't give me a team to lead even though my title in this god forsaken organization is fucking _captain_ , I make shit for pay, and worst of all I did this all to my fucking self! I could have been living on an island somewhere drinking mojitos and sending you hate mail in my down time. But _no_ , I made a stupid decision without thinking, and now I'm stuck with you, and your stupid rules, and your stupid fucking jacket for the rest of my fucking life!"

You slammed your fist on his table, unable to control your body shaking. He was silent. You were silent. You realized you had been screaming and anyone out in the hall or next door probably heard your tirade. You dropped back to the chair, burying your face in your hands again. Your body wanted to cry, wanted to sob the way you did at the hospital, wanted to sob until you couldn't breathe anymore, but you couldn't. You took sharp breaths that made your stomach jump.

When you lifted your head he was next to you, crouched down so he was eye level as you sat, his hand rested on the back of the chair you sat in.

"I can't keep fighting with you, we're just driving each other crazy. If you want, I'll be your commander on paper but I can let Gabe take over your day to day. I'd just be signing the paper work. You'll never really work with me again."

Why did that hurt, why did that feel like he reached right inside your chest and ripped out your heart with his hands? You shook your head no, wondering why you did as you were shaking it. You swallowed hard and shoved his shoulders with both your hands, sending his balance off and he fell back onto the floor with a loud thud. 

"That's not what I want." 

"Then tell me, what do you want? Do you want to push me more? Do you want to scream at me until you lose your voice?" He leaned back. "Do you want both of us to be miserable here until we're too old to fight with each other?" 

"I don't know." 

"C'mon, tell me. Tell me what you really want."

"I don't know!" You stood so fast the chair behind you slid out and crashed to the ground. He didn't move, didn't react. "I don't know what I want!" He stood with a huff, dusting off the front of his white button up. 

"Then you're wasting my time, this isn't going anywhere." He shouldered past you with a snarl and disappeared into his bathroom. You stood for a moment, contemplating gathering your things and leaving now.

You weren't done. He needed to know that he was a dirt bag, that everything he did was for nothing and that one day karma would come back to bite him, and you'd be laughing the whole time.     

"You know what Morrison, you shouldn't even be the poster boy for Overwatch." You could hear him shuffling and zipping behind the door, and you snapped it open. "It should be someone like Commander Reyes, because you haven't even personally been in combat since-” The sound of a small water stream suddenly broke your concentration and you realized what you were looking at. His hips were lazily angled away from you, flap of his pants open and a fist in front of him. His face turned to look at you, and you dropped your mouth open in shock that he wouldn't even try to stop. “Seriously?”   
  
“I don't know what you expected, you came in here.” His shoulders shrugged, hips leaned forward and head lulled back. You rolled against the frame, out of the bathroom and faced back into his living room as you closed your eyes in disgust now hearing him peeing, ending with an exaggerated grunt. “Like I said, you're wasting my time and I'm tired. If you want to continue, please, be my guest. But I don't care anymore, I won't be listening.” You peeked around the door frame, he shook himself then dropped his pants to the ground. He kicked his pants up, catching them in the air.    
  
“You're disgusting.” You deadpanned as he walked toward you.   
  
“You're the one that's still here. Leave if you're done, the door is right there.” His moved his hand holding the pants in the direction of the door. When he did that you got an eyeful of him, now in a loose white dress shirt, beneath you could see he was wearing boxer briefs that must have at one time been black and have since faded to a dark gray, thinned out from years of wear. Your face flushed as your eyes caught the outline of his flaccid dick resting against him under the fabric.

"You know what, maybe I will take you up on that offer of letting Reyes take over. You got all pissy at me because I took my shirt off in front of him, but here you are with no pants in front of me? Hypocrite." You followed him as he crossed the room towards his bedroom. He stopped abruptly, making your body crash into his back and he let out a laugh when your nose made hard contact with him.

"See the thing is, I don't think I care anymore." He said over his shoulder to you. "I tried to follow the rules with you, I've given you an out, and still, you continue to tantrum like a child." 

He felt your hand make contact with his back and he turned faster than you thought a human possibly could, dropping the pants in his hands and grabbing both your wrists.

"Is this what you want?" He asked, leaning close to you. "You want to push me and push me and push me until I fight back, until I hurt you? What, do you think I didn't hurt you enough when that mine went off? When I dragged you away from those flames?" You tensed your arms and he tightened his grip before throwing your wrists back at you. "Get out, go back to your room. Whatever this talk was supposed to resolve, clearly didn't."   

He grabbed his pants from the floor and once he was at the door to his bedroom he shot you a disapproving look, hitting a switch and turning off the lights in the room you were currently in leaving you in total darkness. You stood there in the dark, gritting your teeth and wondering why it was like this, why you had to force it to this point.    
  
In his room you heard as he sat on the edge of his bed, waiting a few moments then turning on his bedside lamp. Your figure emerged from the darkness stepping into his bedroom light and he groaned, throwing his head back in his hands and flopping onto the mattress beneath him.  
  
“You're an asshole.”    
  
“And you're impossible” His voice was muffled behind the hands on his face.  
  
“That stupid blue jacket makes me sick.” You scowled, as he propped himself up on his elbows to look at you, letting out one hard laugh.

"Good." 

"I want to hit you."

"Then come here and hit me. You've got a weak punch." 

"Not all of us need to get military intervention to be strong enough to punch a sand bag." 

"That's low, you don't need to bring my SEP into this." 

"Fine. Then, I hate the way you walk, I can hear you coming from all the way down the hall." God, what were you doing? Now that you were alone with him, you wanted to get out every petty insult you could think of, any last comment to piss him off and have him force you out of him room, otherwise you were going to stay forever. 

"And you can never keep up with me because you walk too slow, do you want me to tell you how much I hate how you walk?" 

"I hate your hair and your stupid boy band haircut." You changed the subject, unwilling for a taste of your own medicine. 

"Oh, wow."

"And your voice, ugh it's worse than the sound of glass breaking."

"Seriously?" 

"And your _face._ Poor farm boy Morrison can get rid of his stupid backwoods accent, but still can't get away from his podunk hick look, even with the help of SEP."

"You're really resorting to hurtful physical insults now?"   
  
You stood in front of him, arms crossed and leaned over him in a pathetic attempt to be intimidating. He stared up at you, icy eyes studying your wavering expression. 

“I may be a lot of the mean things you say.” He sat up, his body now much closer to yours as you stumbled back to avoid his face hitting you. “But, even you know I'd never sink low enough to attack your physical appearance.” 

He furrowed his brows, slowly placing both his hands on your sides to catch you from falling backwards, fingers teasing where your shirt tucked into your pants. He breathed out your first name again, and leaned forward until his forehead gently pressed into your stomach. You froze with your arms still crossed in front of you.

He was right. In all of the arguments, all of the fighting, he never once attacked anything about how you looked, sounded, walked. Your work ethic and your temper were free shots, but he's never insulted you with the intent to hurt your self perception. You were stunned staring down at him, in shock from the sudden physical contact. Confusion and heat grew in you, a sudden realization of 'oh', _this_ was what you wanted. Looking around the dim room trying to find inspiration for another insult but unable to come up with a better retort, and trying to ignore how nice it felt for him to touch you in this way, you blurted out.  
  
“Fuck you, Morrison!”  
  
His hands traveled up your sides, pulling the hem of your shirt up and exposing your stomach to him coming to a rest at your rib cage. Piercing eyes examined the scars and burns, followed the curves from the ghosts of flames and the grazes of debris that flew across your skin. Your pulse was racing, trying to figure out where he was going with this, afraid the next words out of his mouth would be 'psych, your body is disgusting and I'm happy I did this to you, let's start hitting each other!'.

Instead he ran his fingers across the longest scar softly, his thumb traced from your upper ribs and curved down leading into your pants. He moved onto each other scar, lightly following the direction you were hit, and the twists the fire took, he moved as if he was memorizing where each one was, or remembering exactly what caused each one. At some point you realized you were holding your shirt up for him now, letting both his hands run along your side and midsection to feel every raise, every nick, to capture the moment in his mind.    
  
"Breathe." He whispered.

You didn't realize you had been holding your breath and released a shaky exhale. The way he was touching you, it felt like your whole body was blushing. You wanted to cry, almost, but you weren't sad. You weren't scared, no longer angry like the moments before. It almost felt like someone was touching you for the first time, like someone was really, truly, looking at you, looking through to who you really are.  

“You can stay the night, if that's what you want.” He looked up at you and you realized your throat was dry when your eyes met his. “I think,” His voice was soft, like you've never heard it before. "I think that's what I want." Thumbs moved up to tease you, running along the ribs beneath your skin.  
  
Shit, what were you doing? You were screaming at him not even 10 minutes ago, you've pushed him, you've spit at him, insulted to the ends of the earth, and he's totally fine with touching you like this? It must be a trick, he just wanted to cause you more pain, to hurt your heart like he's hurt your body.

Panic struck you, you couldn't do this. You scoffed and roughly pulled your shirt back down, pushing his hands off you.  
  
"Not even in your nightmares, asshole." You shoved him away from you and he landed hard on his mattress. You stormed off into the darkness towards his door, slamming it behind you.

 

What you didn't see was Morrison laid on the edge of his bed, covering his mouth in shock and embarrassment. A hand over his stomach balled into a fist, curling a knot that desperately told him to run after you, to call out your name and drop to his knees and tell you that you're the only thing he thinks about. He rolled to his side, staring into the darkness beyond his bedroom door, ashamed and hurt to have scared you away like this. To have been so open, raw with his emotions in a way he couldn't be with anyone else, and you ran from him the moment it felt like he was finally getting somewhere, it cut him to the core. 

He thought about how he would explain this to Gabe, how he'd never be able to look you in the eyes again.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for being a tease!! I hope you're all ready to get spicy! ( ͡°⁄ ⁄ ͜⁄ ⁄ʖ⁄ ⁄ ͡°)


	9. Fucking Jack Morrison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think you can figure out the plot of this one with the title lmao

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, again this will have dialogue/scenes from the one shot that I enjoyed so I wanted to bring some stuff over!  
> God speed you horny bastards! (♥ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Nope, nope, nope, nope. Your heart was pounding in your ears, your sight tunneled in front of you. You were sure you saw people when you sped through the halls but you’d never be able to remember who they were.

The elevator was taking too long, you couldn’t stop moving, couldn’t stop pacing. Your floor was only three down, you couldn’t wait anymore. Bouncing with each step you ran down three flights of stairs, bursting through the door to your hall and zeroed in at the end where your room was. You were so focused on just getting back to your room as fast as possible you didn’t notice one of the doors opening and a giant man exiting with sweet goodbyes from one of the rooms.

You flew by the man and heard your name called in confusion. You skidded to a halt, socks sliding on the linoleum floor and turned to face him.

“Are you alright?” Lieutenant Wilhelm quickly slid the door closed behind him and looked at his watch. “Um Gotteswillen, look at you! It’s almost one a.m., what happened to your uniform?”

It suddenly hit you how disheveled you must look. Red in the face still thinking about Morrison’s hands on your body, sweating from literally running down three floors of stairs, no shoes, missing your uniform jacket, hat, and tie, with your shirt untucked hanging over your pants and the first few buttons undone. You were breathing hard, mind playing catch up to process what he asked you.

“I could ask you the same thing, Lieutenant.” He too was still in his formals, but at least his shirt was tucked in and his shoes were on. He was holding his jacket and hat in his hand, but his long blond hair was a fluffed mess. “I didn’t think you’d have business on the captain’s floor at this hour.” You watched blush immediately spread across his face and his hand clutch his jacket closer to him. There was a brief pause, he bit his lip nervously glancing at the door next to him. “You never saw me, I never saw you.”

He nodded excessively and you both turned in opposite directions. You didn’t really care, what people did on their own time was their own business, but he was a known blabbermouth. You rushed to your door as down the hall you heard his hurried steps to the elevators.

At the keypad you hesitated to punch in your code and open the door to your room. Half of your uniform was sitting in Morrison’s living room and kitchen, and with it, your phone in your coat pocket. You wanted to go back, but you couldn’t quite decide if it was _just_ because you wanted your things back. You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand.

Dammit.

* * *

 

Back at his door you shifted on the balls of your feet, trying to talk yourself into knocking. Shoes. Coat. Hat. Tie. You were just going back for your things, that was it. You weren't even going to look at him, you were just going to grab your uniform and get out. Then you’d never talk to him, you could avoid him for the rest of your life and play telephone through Commander Reyes, you’d throw yourself into work and never look at his sky blue eyes or his big hands ever again. Just, focus. Shoes. Coat. Hat. Tie.

You hit his door once, and Morrison opened it before your knuckles even had the chance to make contact a second time. Immediately you locked eyes with him, breathing in an overwhelming gasp. He looked frazzled, still in the button down and well worn underwear, but he had undone his shirt all the way, the sides fluttering when the air from the hall pushed into his room. He hooked an arm around your midsection, pulling you back into his darkened room and the door slid closed behind you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, hanging behind his neck and your hands tangled into his hair, your lips dangerously close to his. You could feel his breath against your skin, unsteady as his fingers gripped into your back.  

"Iforgotmy-"

“Please, stay.” He begged, pressing his forehead against yours, uncaring that you were shaking and sweating.

“I still hate you.” You caught the gasps in your throat, as you leaned into his body.

“I know.” He almost had a smile in his voice.

Slowly, with you still wrapped in his arms he walked backwards and brought you with him to his bedroom. At the door he released you, backing up on his own until he sat at the edge of his bed and you waited in his doorway watching as he leaned his elbows on his knees and locked his eyes with yours.

“This doesn’t change anything, Morrison.” You said unbuttoning your shirt and throwing it to the floor just outside his bedroom.

“Wouldn’t want it to.” His pupils grew at the sight of you undressing, he leaned harder against his knees as you pushed the heavy uniform pants off your hips and to the ground.

With a deep breath you walked into his bedroom, coming to a stop between his spread knees. He leaned back looking you in the eyes, his lips held back a smile as he ran his hands over your stomach and your scars again then circled around to your back. You felt his fingers fumble with your bra clap, shaking from either excitement or nervousness before finally pulling it off you.

You let your hands drape over his shoulders, playing with the ends of his hair as he brought his hands to your chest, fingers running over your nipples and you sighed into his touch. He leaned forward, placing light kisses against the length of your scars. At first your body recoiled, fearing the intimate touch, but he ran his hands along your sides in slow comforting movements. He was so gentle. His body was so much larger than yours, so imposing, and so quick to meet your anger, that it never even occurred to you he could be this gentle.

He hooked his thumbs at the edge of your panties, looking up to meet your eyes before he pulled them down and let them drop to the ground. He couldn’t hold the smile back anymore, he kissed below your belly button, and across your hips, his hands following the curves of your body, palms over your ass and down the backs of your thighs, then trailing up the fronts. He made you shiver.

The open shirt around him was falling off his shoulders. You helped the edges down and he pulled his arms from it, chucking the shirt across his bedroom. You dragged your fingers down his neck, over his collarbone and over the hard line down his body leading to the band of his underwear. He was breathing loud through his nose, watching your face as you examined how his body twitched under your touch.    

He was already hard, pressed tightly against the fabric, the visible outline of him made you catch your breath when you saw his size. Your fingers wandered to his tip and put more pressure as you slid your fingers down his length. His dick pulsed under your touch, and as you ran your hand along him pressing harder until you were palming him, eliciting small groans he was trying to suppress.

“Think you can handle me?” His breathy voice asked you.

“Smallest I've ever been with.” You responded, an obvious lie to take any cheap shot to belittle him. He rolled his hips against your palm, and laughed devilishly at you.

“I’m going to fuck that attitude out of you.” Cursing again, twice in one night. You must be special.

“I’d like to see you try.” You smiled smugly, pulling his underwear from his hips and stepping back to give him room as he brought his legs through.

He stood, his tall frame seeming much less threatening now that both of you were naked. A smirk was spread across his lips, he was just looking at you, but you could feel his hands all over your body.

In one fell swoop he hugged you at your rib cage, picking you up into the air and dropping you with him onto the bed. His back landed flat against his mattress, your legs spread on either side of his hips. You caught yourself from crashing into him with both hands against his hard chest. His hands rested on your thighs, massaging against them in small circles as your hands wandered down through his chest hair and over his solid abs.

He still had that stupid smirk on his face, lit by his bedside lamp, he looked like he was enjoying this way too much. You reached beneath you and took hold of him, he was hot and heavy, fingertips unable to touch as you circled around him. You started pumping him, getting a feel for him in your hand. His head dropped to the bed with a stupid smile across his face and his eyes closed as he breathed with your motions.

His fingers dug into your thighs, and you leaned forward placing your unoccupied hand against his shoulder for balance. His face turned to the side, lips kissing at your nearest fingers, rough stubble that had grown over the day scratching against your skin. You could feel his breathing, hard against your fingers increasing as you worked him. His hips moved in time with your hand, thrusting together as you worked him. You rolled your wrist, pumping at him faster and his eyes looked like they were going to flutter to the back of his head.

Yeah, he was definitely enjoying this too much.

You gave him one last good squeeze before releasing him from your grip and he let out a disgruntled groan.

“Tired already?”

“Tired of seeing your face.” Carefully you bounced your body up his, coming to a rest at the top of his chest. He smirked back up at you.      

“You know, you actually almost look cute when you blush like that.”

"Keep talking, Morrison." You slid down to his chin, over his mouth, rolling your eyes at the compliment. When you looked down his icy eyes stared back, something wicked behind them.

Strong arms wrapped around your thighs locking you in place. You could feel his lips smile and kisses placed against you that made you almost jump. He opened his mouth, hot breath sending a shiver up your spine, and he slid his tongue along your slit, circling around your clit as he watched you tremble above him. Your attention was briefly ripped away as you heard a phone vibrating low in the living room.  

He brought you right back to him as he put pressure on you, licking your nub back and forth before moving to your opening. His tongue swirled around your entrance, poking in you, testing you. Even as he teased you, you could feel his smile, could see the unbridled joy in his eyes seeing you come undone above him. The way his tongue moved over you, in you, against you, it sent your world into sparks. He knew exactly what he was doing, it seemed like he knew exactly what to do, and when, to get you to whimper and shudder against him. You looked into his blue eyes, your mouth hung open stopping loud gasps, your body was hunched over him fingers interlocking with his hair.   

Your legs were starting to shake and you whined, grinding your hips into his face as his tongue licked and poked everywhere it could. His arms gripped you harder, preventing you from moving. Now that he had you here, he was going to make sure you lost control against him. The way he was moving, his tongue against you, stubble rubbing on your skin, his lips sucking, it was making your entire body bounce against him.

One of his hands at your thigh twisted and fingers rubbed circles against your clit while his tongue explored you. You were breathing hard, he was working your body into a frenzy and your fingers dug into the back of his head. He moaned against you as you heard rapid knocking at his door. 

You grabbed his hair, suddenly pulling it backwards. Surprised you stopped him, his arms released your thighs and you pulled your twitching hips in the air above him. You shot off his body and landed sitting on the edge of his bed. He looked at you, bewildered.

“Did I do something wrong?” He sat up as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, licking his lips and still tasting you on his skin.

You brought a finger to your mouth telling him to be quiet, and the knocking hit his door again. For a few moments you both froze, unsure what to do. That was definitely Reyes’s knocking. That was definitely Reyes, and there was definitely no way either of you would answer the door like this. You waited until heavy footsteps carried down the hallway and you heard the vibration of a phone in his living room again.    

You looked to Morrison, who was staring back at you. Without question he wrapped an arm around your waist and brought you back into his lap in a straddle.

“He can wait until the morning.” Morrison said, pressing kisses against your collarbone and neck. Between your legs you could feel his cock pressed against you and you rocked against him. His teeth dragged against your skin, lips wandering until he was at the corner of your mouth.

Your stomach felt like it was doing flips, and you leaned away from him placing your head in the crook of his neck, avoiding his lips.

“Don’t.”

He rutted against you, his length along your slit, hands gently holding you against him at your lower back.

“Don’t?” He whispered against your hair.

“Don’t kiss me. Not…” Your voice trailed off with a moan as he ran along your clit. “Not on my lips.”

He pulled back from you, placing his hands behind him so you were left keeping yourself upright in his lap. His face was flushed with pink, burning from his cheeks to his nose to ears.

“Okay, no kissing.” He brought a hand back up and placed it on your hip. His body moved to run along you again, but he chewed at his lip. You watched him as he leaned forward against your body and he chuckled low when your chest pressed to his.

You opened your mouth to say something but his hand squeezed you and teeth sunk against your neck. When you gasped against him, he brought his lips to your ear.    

“Are you always this wet for the people you hate?” His whisper made your body twitch against him. You pushed his chest until he fell back against the bed and stared up at you with that stupid smirk across his face again.

You reached down, using your fingers to keep him in place between your folds. Back and forth you rocked covering his cock in your wetness, hitting in just the right way where every downward movement teased your clit. Rubbing his length, you let your hips work on teasing him, you bit your lip holding back your moans. Hands ran along your thighs, pushing against your skin and nails dragging down with your movements. He threw his head back, enjoying you do the work for him, completely lost in his own lust. His thumb wandered to your clit and he began rubbing circles in time to your rocking.

Through your bit lip you were holding back your panting, not wanting him to see how much you were actually loving this. He felt perfect against you, and you could feel every twitch, every jerking motion he made while you teased him between your folds. While one hand held him in place, your other rolled your nipple between your fingers.

His eyes focused in at the sight, and his thumb ground against you harder. His mouth was going dry from his own heavy breathing, he was going to go crazy if you kept this up.

“If you’re not going to kiss me, at least let me hear how much you're enjoying this.” He begged. You shook your head, moving your hand at your chest to cover your mouth so he couldn't hear you.

His hands moved to frantically grip at anything on your body they could, your name leaving his lips between low mumbled sighs. You circled in his lap, holding back the moans you know he wanted to hear from working your clit, and you smiled down at him behind your hand.

He was becoming needier, more unhinged. His hips bucking against you in random movements, fingers gripping your thighs, and hips, and wandering over your scars. Your bit lip still held back noises, but some involuntary gasps escaped you. Looking at him through half lidded eyes you could see his desperation. You let out a small groan and a half laugh, enjoying the view of Morrison coming undone.

His eyes flew open, hand at your clit shot up with his body and he roughly pulled you towards his face gripping you by the back of the neck, stopping just before your lips. You ground against him, breathing heavily against his lips, just to be a tease.

You smiled and bit your lip again, eyes flicking between both of you. Carefully you pushed at his tip, angling yourself so he was pressed against your entrance. You bounced just lightly enough that he wouldn’t enter you.

“Losing your patience, Morrison?” You asked with your lips dragging against the skin of his neck. He groaned out a response that sounded like your name as his nails dug into you.

“I lost my patience with you a long time ago.” He finally got out as he rolled his hips upwards trusting in you. Your body took him with no resistance, sliding in almost to the hilt and filling you in a way you’d never felt before. Your walls were stretched, twitching against him with your legs. He smiled as your lips opened in a surprised gasp.

“Fu-uuck!” You moaned against him. His girth took you as a surprise once it he was in and you had to steady yourself, gripping onto his strong shoulders. Your eyes wide, you took a few shallow breaths trying to focus on the stuffed feeling.  

Although you were still sat in his lap, he wrapped his strong arms around your waist to keep you in place, not allowing you to take back control. He thrusted underneath you at a wicked pace, not a moment to even catch your breath. You tried to grab onto his shoulders but your fingers curled into fists and you couldn’t grip him. You realized you were letting out loud panting gasps and you slapped a hand over your mouth.    

Ramming hard into you he picked you up, flipping the both of you over so your back was now to the mattress. He dragged your legs until he was standing off the edge of the bed and your knees hooked around his hips. Now plowing deeper into you than before, you opened your mouth to scream in pleasure but nothing came, instead gasps and moans filled the room. His hands wandered over you, down your neck, over your chest, against your scars. With one hand he rolled your nipple between his fingers, the other dropping to play with your clit.

“Maybe if you whined like this I'd let you have your way more often."

You could only respond with more desperate moans, words unable to form in your mouth. He sucked on his lip, his eyes savoring the image and noises beneath him, watching you twitch with need in his grip.

The way he was making you feel was like no one else had before. Your body felt like it was on fire in the best way possible. Something about his touch, the way he encouraged your body to move the way it did, it made you feel wanted, it made you feel so safe. So comfortable.

And that scared the shit out of you, it put you on edge.  

But still, you wanted his hands all over you, all the time. Hands that spread a warm happiness throughout your body that held you more intimately than he should if this was just for sex. His palms ran over every inch of your skin, eyes trailing along with his fingers as if he was finally seeing deep fantasies coming to fruition. The way he squeezed your legs against him, the way he gripped into your thighs, he seemed to know exactly what made you clench around him, exactly when to stop before it became too much for you.

You were no longer holding back your moans as he was riding into you, legs wide apart and ankles wrapped at his back. Your fingers gripped into his sheets, ruining his perfectly made bed as your body was straining tight, he could tell you were close.

“ _Fuck, Morrison_.” You moaned, he filled you so completely, every inch against your walls stretching you out and lighting up your nerves. His ears perked up at his name as he pounded into you. He leaned over and held your legs tight against him.

“Oh, don't be like that.” He said deep against your ear with a cocky smile in his voice. “At least call me commander.” You could still feel his smile when he kissed your collarbone and down your chest.

“Absolutely not.” You groaned.

With a thoughtful _hmm_ , he moved both hands to grip at your breasts. You were grinding your hips against his, body curling into his every touch. He could feel your squeezes coming often, your pulse racing in your neck. He knew you would be frantic to release, and he came to an abrupt halt.

“Couldn't handle me poster boy?” You breathed through desperate sighs. He was smiling, strangely quiet. You twisted against him, trying to get any friction you could. "Please Morrison, I'm so close, don’t stop."

He watched as you slipped your own fingers to your clit, shaking and hurried to build yourself up again. His hands dragged from your chest to your hips, holding them still against him.

“Humor me. Call me by my title.” While one hand gripped at your hip his other ripped your fingers from your crotch, pinning it above your head. You breathed hard as he leaned above you.

“If you don’t let me go, I’ll spit on you again.” You threatened, arching your back towards him.

“Go ahead." He lowered his voice. "I liked it the first time.” He snapped his hips, driving into you hard and making you see stars.

He pulled himself from you, twisting your arm and making you moan as he forced you to flip over until your stomach pressed into his bed. He held your arm behind you as he pressed his length along your slit, now being the one to tease.

You pushed your hips back against him, needing the release of heat that was about to burst in you. You riled against him, pushing on his dick trying to get an angle to get him back in you as you begged in whispers under your breath. He grabbed a fist full of your hair and lifted your head towards him as he leaned in close to your ear.

“If you want this, all you have to do it tell me who your commander is.” He was rutting against your clit, he was driving you crazy. You let out a small laugh.

“Rey-” You started sarcastically. On the first syllable of the wrong name Morrison drove into you again, hard enough to knock the wind out of you and make you gasp. You squirmed, breath catching the sound of your heartbeat rushing to your ears.

Pulling out again, behind you he spit. Warm saliva landing on the curve of your ass and beading down onto your slit. His large thumb massaged his fluid against your swollen lips, taking his time to slowly press against your folds and tease at your clit before lining himself up with your entrance again.    

“I said,” He gave another hard thrust. “Who’s _your commander_ _?”_ His voice was dangerous, threatening to leave you high and dry this time if you tried to sass him again. His thrust made you see white, your mouth dry. This was the final hurdle, this either needed to come now, or it would be ruined and you'd have a knot cramping in you for the rest of the night. You clawed at his comforter, balling your hands into fists and rocking your hips into his.

“Fuck, Morrison! You are!” You moaned, arching your back, his angle on you hitting exactly where you needed him to. Whining and trying desperately to get yourself off on him, you were almost pleading for him to finish what he started. “Strike Commander Jack Morrison!” 

_“God damn.”_ He cried under his breath. Still holding your hair, his other hand reached beneath you and ground into your clit while he was slamming into you. Hearing you say that lead him over the edge and as soon as it left your lips.

“Jack Fucking Morrison-!" You moaned again as he started pumping again. "You’re my commander!” You panted between gasps and thrusts. Finally, his pace heightened again. The heat in you burst, burning waves of pleasure shuttered across your skin, through your scalp and down to your toes.

He felt your legs and walls twitching, milking him as he released himself in you, filling and riding on the waves of your pleasure that followed. He grunted against you, pulsing again and again, never realizing his formal title could ever make him cum this hard. His hands held your hips against him, and you felt every pulse, every spasm, every hot breath down your back.

He stayed in you long past after you were both done. Your legs shook uncontrollably against him, and he ran his hands along your back, thumbs rubbing in small circles hoping to give you some sort of comfort or help coming down from your high. You pressed your face into his bed, not wanting him to see the smile that lingered on your lips because of his touch.  

“If you tell anyone about this, I'll say you’re terrible in bed.” You mumbled into the blanket through slow breaths.

He chuckled at your threat. Standing at full height now he admired you laying open to him, legs wide with him between them. Carefully he pulled himself from you, watching as your pussy slowly clenched back closed and his cum leaked out onto his bedspread. He reached down using a finger to push some of his fluid back in, you grunted at his finger entering you again twisting, already sore.

“I wouldn't mind seeing you like this more often.”

“Fuck off.” You said with venom, muffled by a smile and the bed.

You pushed your body up, legs to wobbly when you stood and you fell right back into his bed landing on your side. A heavy sigh turned into a yawn as you laid your head against his pillows, your tired eyes searched for a clock knowing it must be the early hours of the morning. You closed your eyes, just for a moment, trying to focus on your heartbeat and the weird happiness that warmed your body like a heater.

  
When you opened your eyes Morrison was on the edge of his bed, slipping on a loose thin tshirt. You were so warm so comfortable, and as you moved around you realized you were now in an oversized shirt and tucked under his blankets. As you blinked at him you saw his hair was wet and he smelled like the cheap bar soap they give the boot campers. The window looking outside was still dark, and the only light in his room coming from the dim bedside lamp.

"Don't look at me like that, you're the one who fell asleep." He stood, slipping on the same well worn underwear you pulled off his hips earlier.

You took a moment to make sure you weren't light headed from sleep and pushed off the covers. Part of you desperately wanted to stay, wanted to curl up against him under his sheets and fall asleep listening to his heartbeat. But you searched the room for your clothes and slipped on your panties that had been discarded on the floor.

You clicked on the light in his living room and he sat back against the bed, cold eyes watching as you dressed yourself. You pulled on the thick uniform pants and tucked in the shirt he put on you. White button up and bra laying on the floor and hat and tie sitting at the table, you gathered your missing pieces of the uniform and carried them in your arms as you picked up the chair you knocked over in his kitchen to put it back in place.  
  
"I actually do want you to stay the night."

You glanced over to him as you placed your coat and shoes at the top of the pile in your arms.

"I just came back for my stuff." 

He paused, watching as you clicked the lights back off, leaving him as a shadowy figure sat on the edge of his bed. 

"Sure."

When you opened the door out to the hallway, light flooded in behind your silhouette and you called out over your shoulder.

"See you around, Morrison."

* * *

 

It felt like you didn’t breathe until you got back to your room. You finally let out a long shaky exhale as you punched in your key code. When your door slid open you closed your eyes and walked through, dropping everything in your arms to the side with a deep sigh.

“Where the hell do you think you’ve been?”

You almost screamed bloody murder as you slammed on your lights, only to find Reyes leaned against the wall sitting in your bed with half sleeping eyes. Storm winds whipped against your window behind him with the dim glow of sunrise peaking out just beyond the horizon.  

“I’ve been searching for you and Jack _all night_ , I’ve been calling and texting and I’ve been to every empty meeting room on base. Where. The hell. Have you been?”

“I…” Oh no, think quick. There’s no way you were admitting to being with Morrison all night, not when you looked like this. Reyes stood, stretching as he approached you. “I don’t know about Morrison, but I left the party with one of the cadets.”

“So instead of having the conversation you know you need to have, you went out and got laid by a stranger?”

"Mmhmm. Yup.” You replied, turning to walk into your bathroom hoping he would leave if you told him half truths. In your bathroom mirror you could see Reyes freeze once you turned. He was staring at you and his eyes were wide looking at your back. He opened his mouth to say something, then he shook his head and put his hands on his hips. 

“So what was this cadet’s name?” That seemed weirdly chipper. There’s no way he could know right?

“I-I didn’t think to ask. He’s...new.”

“Right. He’s new.” You turned back to Reyes, sucking on your cheek.

“Anything else you want to know, or can I go to bed?”

“Did he treat you right?”

“Jesus, of course he did. Why are you acting weird about this?”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“I haven’t decided-”

“Be honest, do you think you’ll see him again?”

“Probably! He was...nice. Reyes, why do you care?”

He paused for too long, looking at you with eyes that just told you he knew something and you considered breaking down to tell him the truth. 

“Do you want to tell me why you’re wearing Jack’s SEP shirt?”

Your mouth hung open, your eyes looked down. It was just a plain black shirt, what was he talking about? How could he possibly know? Something told you to check the back, and you glanced behind you into the mirror of your bathroom.

Fuck. FUCK. Reflected in the mirror in big bold white letters, cracked from way too many washes, read “Soldier: 76”. You snapped back to look at Reyes, face burning redder than it ever had in your life.

“Let me repeat myself. Do you want to tell me why _the hell_ you’re wearing Jack’s SEP shirt?”

“I really don’t, Commander Reyes.” You pleaded. He scoffed and let out a few sarcastic laughs.

“Unbelievable. I’ve been so worried about you two killing each other for so long, and you’ve been _sleeping together?_ How long has this been going on?” He threw his hands in the air. Your eyes flickered to the clock on your wall, you didn’t realize it was already almost four in the morning.

“About three hours.” You pressed your lips tight together. “Sir.” You added as a whisper.

Reyes opened his mouth to say something, but held it there along with his hand in the air in disbelief. Cracks of wind against the glass of the window made your muscles tense. He shook his head and went for your door.

“Not a word of this to Jesse or Genji.” He said as he slid your door open and stormed off. Letting it snap shut behind him you assumed he was on his way to Morrison’s room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be continuing it past this point! I'm now finished with all the extra bits I had left over from the one shot that I cut, so updates might slow down just a little (that and I'm desperately trying to finish Kinktober lmao), but not to worry, we'll find out what happens after! :D


	10. Hair Cuts & Hugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyes is upset, everyone gets haircuts, and Blackwatch gets a new member.

You practically collapsed into bed, knees buckling when Reyes left. You were too exhausted to consider the consequences this would have, to contemplate how betrayed he must feel after he’s heard nothing but complaints and curses from you about Morrison for over the last year. It made your stomach hurt how angry he must be at you both, and you hugged your knees to your chest trying to avoid the thoughts.

You felt so weak.     

Was that really all it took? A little bit of unsupervised alone time with Morrison and you were moaning his name into his bed sheets, falling apart under his touch? The shirt smelled like him. Like the cheap boot camp soap and his skin, a hint of musk that you couldn't quite place. It was so comfortable, soft from years of wear, at least twice your size. One of the sleeves had a pathetic attempt of a sew job on the seam, holes where the thread couldn't quite hold and opened to your skin beneath. It made you think of his hands along your skin, the way his fingers lingered on every inch of you.

No. No, you can’t think about him like this. He can’t be the person that cradles you as you fall asleep, he can’t be the one that comforts you when you cry waking up from terrors in the middle of the night. He’s the one who hurt you. He’s the center of the shit storm that has ripped through your life. You were getting nauseous again, chest feeling tight.

Breathe. Five seconds in, five seconds out. Breathe. Breathe.

“Breathe.” You could still hear Morrison’s whisper when he touched your scars.

You thrashed around in bed, the sudden movements being too much. Reyes is going to hate you. He probably thinks you’re a liar. Arntz would kill you if she knew, probably. Your head hurt. Jesse won’t look at you the same, he’ll wonder why you kept this from him when he’s been nothing but an open book with you. You’ll get cold stares from Genji, fall right back to square one and he’ll regress to a nonverbal acquaintance. Breathe. When did you start crying? Morrison was lying, he had to be. You were just a conquest, a sick game for him. You couldn’t hold it back anymore, you darted to your bathroom.

Bourbon burned on the way back up leaving a horrific taste in your throat. You probably should have eaten at the party, your stomach was clenching from emptiness. You leaned against the wall of your bathroom, the cool metal felt nice against your sweating forehead. Your phone was quietly dinging away in the pocket of your coat on the floor where you dropped it, but you didn’t want to move. Anxiety peaked and sent waves across your skin to the soles of your feet. You wished you could blame this on getting drunk, but you hadn’t had enough and it’s been far too long for you to even be inebriated.

You brushed your teeth, probably too hard and for far too long. As you stood in front of the mirror you avoided eye contact with yourself, knowing full well you’d have puffy bags and bloodshot eyes.

When you crawled back into bed the sun rose behind dark clouds, peaks of brilliant yellow radiating from a purple sky. Three floors up Morrison’s room faced the same direction. You wondered if he was seeing the sunrise too, or if Reyes was there chewing him out.

* * *

 

It was raining when you opened your eyes, gray skies replacing the sunrise you fell asleep to. Water beat against your window at a rapid pace, almost as rapid as Jesse’s knocks at your door. You groaned into your pillow, not ready to talk to him. He knocked again and called out your name. If you didn’t answer he was going to let himself in.  

“Go away Jesse!” You called out as you flipped over to face the door. You heard the beeps on your keypad and bundled your blanket over your face so he couldn’t see you when you came in, hoping if you hid, he’d just leave.

“C’mon sunshine, time to wake up.” You heard the door close behind him.

“Ugh, Jesse I wish you wouldn’t smoke in the morning, I can still smell it on you.”

“It ain't the mornin’.” He chuckled. “It’s almost one in the afternoon. ‘Sides, Reyes caught me with my cigarettes and took ‘em away. So, I won’t have ‘em for a while.”

You felt him sit at the edge of your bed near your feet. Under the covers you tried to rub sleep off your face and out of your eyes. Finally getting the courage to face him, you peeked out at him and almost screamed.

His usual cowboy hat sat in his lap, his hair was buzzed, beard gone leaving him with a clean shaven baby face. For a brief moment you almost didn’t recognize him, and you scrambled away to the other end of your bed.

“What!”

“Don’t-”

“Whaaaat!” He looked so much younger. You almost started laughing, but he furrowed his brows and tightened his lips. “Look at you!” You shot from your blankets, landing right in front of him and grabbing both his cheeks to feel how smooth his skin was. His face was burning from blush, his arms crossed tight in front of him. “What’s with the change?” You finally asked leaning away from him as you held back your giggles.

“Reyes must 'a caught a bug up his ass this mornin’. He busts in all rantin’ and ravin’ about how he’s too lax with us. Made me and Genji cut our hair and run laps. On a Saturday, at seven in the goddamn mornin’. And then he took away my damn smokes. Can you believe it?”

Oh. Oh no. You felt like you’d just been punched in the gut, like he might as well have reached in and squeezed your stomach with his fist. You could feel the color drain from you and he looked at you with growing question, you tried to swallow your guilt.

“You're not looking to grand, did somethin’ happen last night?” He raised a judging eyebrow at you.

“I…” What were you supposed to say? Oh yeah Jesse, last night after you passed out I just went and had a nice chat with Morrison. We yelled, he apologized, he rammed me into his mattress. Typical Friday night, you didn’t miss much. “I think I need to talk to Reyes.” You finally blurted out.

“What happened?!” He leaned towards you examining your face for any clues.

You grabbed both his cheeks again, looking him in the eyes and trying to make your face as serious as you could.

“Jesse, are you my friend no matter what?” He brought his hands up to yours, grabbing your fingers and keeping your hands in place.

“You’re my family.” Ouch. Please Jesse, don’t be mad. You opened your mouth to tell him but you couldn’t. How could you even begin to explain this? He breathed out your name. “Go on, spit it out.”

“Jesse, last night-”

Your door slid open.

“Hey, your door is unlocked. What-” Both your faces snapped to the voice as it entered. “Am I interrupting something?”

Fucking Morrison. Jesse dropped his hands, but you kept yours cupping his cheeks.

“Get out of here, asshole.” You scowled at him. It looked like he had been sweating, he had a hand towel draped over his shoulder and was in workout gear.

“Jesus, what happened to your face?” Jesse asked between your hands, his eyes locked on Morrison’s jaw.

“This?” He turned his chin to the side, the edge covered in a deep pink mark that spread just so up his cheek. “Gabe and I had a bit of a disagreement last night.” His blue eyes shot to you, hint of a smirk on his lips.  

“So you’re why he’s in a bad mood!” Jesse ripped his face from you and stood. “Next time you two wanna fight can you to tell him to leave us out of it?” He gestured to his hair, and lack of on his chin.         

“Sure thing, kid.” He said as he leaned against your door frame and rested his arm on his hip. “I need to talk to her, would you mind giving us the room?” Jesse turned back to look at you and you rolled your eyes before falling back against your bed dramatically.

“Yeah, sure.” Jesse gave you a skeptical look as he slipped past Morrison and out into the hallway letting the door snap closed behind him. Morrison watched as you pinched the bridge of your nose and let out a deep sigh.

“You’re pretty close with agent McCree?”

“I’m not sleeping with him, if that’s what you’re asking. What do you want, Morrison?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay, you haven't responded to me all day.” He held out his phone.

“In case you haven't noticed, I have never respond to you.” Not once have you ever called him, ever written back a text. Your phone log was filled with messages left on read and voicemails you’d never listen to, not just from him, but from anyone who tried to reach you.

“Well, regardless, no one heard from you so I thought I’d come check.”

Your arms landed hard at your sides and you watched as he crossed the room stopping next to your bed looming over you, he crouched to be at eye level. You played with your hair on your pillow, turning your face to his.

“Reyes really punched you?”  

“He did.”

“Why?”

“He’s upset.” He brought a hand to rest gently against your hip, your stomach jumped against his touch. “He wanted to know why you were in my shirt, and I might have said something… crude.” His fingers slipped under the fabric, running against your scars and sliding up your side.

“What did you say, Morrison?” His hand wandered to your chest, soft fingers circling at your nipple, sending aches between your legs.

“I told him that you were practically begging for me.” You rolled your eyes and squirmed against your mattress, suppressing a moan that wanted to escape your throat. He dropped his voice low. “I told him something along the lines of, if he wasn’t going to take care of you, then I had to.”

“Ugh. You’re a pig, get your hands off me.” You pushed his arm away and he brought it to his chin, running his thumb over the bruise. You pushed yourself up until you were sitting and stared at him.

He’s a monster. A cold, heartless monster who was using you, using your body. He’s an evil man who got punched in the face because he probably said something grosser than he’s willing to admit to you.

But you couldn’t stop yourself from gliding your fingertips across his chin over the bruise, eyes softening as you felt the heat from his face. He watched your expression change as you touched him, his breathing becoming heavier. 

“Can I ask you something, about last night?” He rested a hand against your elbow, leaned his face into your palm. You flickered between the bruise and his eyes as you silently nodded your head. “Why did you ask me not to kiss you?”

His question hit you with a reverberating emptiness. There was something so hurt, so genuine in his voice.

“Because it was just sex.” You dropped your hand to your lap, thumbnail digging into cuticles.

“Was it?”

You couldn’t look at him. Was it? Was it _just_ sex? You shook his hand off your arm and brought your blanket over your shoulders forcing yourself to look out the window at the large drops of rain hitting it.

“It’s wasn’t. Not for me.” Morrison continued. “And you can hate me, and fight me all you want, but you should know that last night was the first time I’ve felt happy in a long, long, time.”

“You don’t deserve to be happy.”

“Maybe not.” You heard him shifting and he stood in your peripherals. He sighed and wiped his forehead with the towel on his shoulder. “I’ll give you some space.” He patted you on the shoulder and you jerked away from him. “You know my key code if you ever want to invite yourself in.”  

You chewed at your cheek. Stupid Morrison and his stupid birthday key code. He slid open your door and you turned your head just in time to meet his eyes before it closed behind him.

 

Distract yourself, you had to distract yourself. You spent the weekend running from the thoughts of slipping into Morrison’s room, climbing into bed and kissing his chest. You avoided Blackwatch by isolating yourself to the training rooms only used by Overwatch, practicing your shooting, and researching new methods for breaking codes. It kept raining. You were nervous Reyes would show up well after the sun went down and force you to go out running again, but he never came.           

* * *

 

On Monday you woke to the sun shining brightly in your eyes rather than the normal rapid knocking at your door. Jesse and Genji usually came to get you for practice before Overwatch agents trained every morning (apart from when they were on a mission without you) it was unusual of them not to be here already. An unsettling feeling sunk in your stomach. Maybe Reyes told them they couldn’t associate with you anymore, or maybe he told them everything you did and they hated you now.

You hurried to dress yourself in your combat uniform, bringing Morrison’s shirt over your shoulders. You knew you shouldn’t be wearing it to sleep, but still you did anyway. You stuffed his shirt under your pillow too ashamed of even seeing it in your room. A quick once over in the mirror told you that you looked good enough for practice, and you rushed out the door towards the training room.

When you entered the elevator, you were faced with a group of cadets and Lieutenant Wilhelm who made intense eye contact with you and nodded his head, his face turning a bright red. Good god, this man could not be more obvious. Mirrored walls on every side of the elevator allowed you to see the eyebrows raised from agents who saw this, and their gazes darted between you two. You sped off on your floor, afraid he was going to stop you to try to say something.  

When you peeked in to the training room, you only saw Jesse sitting on a bench drenched in sweat and Genji fighting a training bot. His pace was unbelievable, no hesitation, no rests, he kept punching and kicking and kneeing and it looked like nothing could stop him.       

“What’s going on with Genji?” You asked as you watched him kick a training bot so hard he knocked the head clean off.

“Don’t set him off. He’s pissed ‘cause we got a new team member.” Jesse said low, leaned against you.

“Why would he be mad about that?” You responded with a whisper.

“Do you know who Dr. O'Deorain is?”

“That sounds familiar? I think I heard the nurses talking about her when I was recovering in the medical wing. She wanted to run genetic tests on agents or something, right?”

“That’s the one. Gabe’s gone out of his damn mind, brought her into Blackwatch this morin’. Announced she’s goin' to be workin’ with us from now on. She’s takin’ over Genji’s medical care, and he’s real mad about it.”

“Shit.” You said in surprise as you raised your eyebrows.

“Said he didn’t want to be her guinea pig, that he knows what she’s done to her patients in the past. Called her all sorts a mean things in Japanese.”

“What about you?”

“What ‘bout me?”

“How do you feel about her?”

“I don’t trust her. But hey, if we’re talkin’ about feelings, how’d your conversation with Commander Morris-” He stood straight, looking forward. “Hey, Genji.”

Genji’s face plate was down over his mouth, his buzzed hair obvious above the metal. His eyes were wide, and he looked like he was ready to kill. He looked how he did when you broke the tube on his neck, his chest heaved and his fists were balled.

“Overwatch will start their session soon, we should head out.” You tried to sound as casual as you could, but your eyes darted nervously around the training room. Jesse nodded and you both stared at Genji, waiting for his reaction. He responded with one hard nod and followed at your side out the door.     

As the three of you walked in the hall, someone in a group going the opposite direction laughed. Clearly not aimed at you, or Blackwatch, or anyone, but Genji’s eyes shot to them and focused in. Before either you or Jesse could stop him, Genji lunged forward and pushed the Overwatch agent to the wall, pinning their neck with his forearm. The other people around them let out frightened screams at the swift movement.  

“Do not laugh at me.” He said with narrowed eyes and heavy breathing.

“Genji!” You called grabbing him by the shoulder and trying to get him off the poor cadet who had no idea what was going on. Red eyes flashed to yours, and he elbowed you hard enough in the stomach to send you flying backwards into the wall on the opposite side.

“Get off of him Shimada!” Jesse yelled trying to pull Genji away. He turned and shoved Jesse, who caught his footing before he fell.

“Do not refer to me by that name!” His head turned to see you staring up at him from the floor, shaking and trying to prop yourself back up. With a growl he punched next to the cadet, who let out a high pitched scream that hurt your ears and bounced off the walls around you.

Genji stormed off, leaving a terrified group of cadets, a hole in the wall, and Jesse to help you off the ground. The group burst into frantic voices asking what they did, what his problem was, why that freak of a cyborg attacked them. Jesse shook his head as he grabbed your arms to lift you.

“Are you alright?” He checked over your body, but you held your arm to your stomach as you stood and groaned.

“I didn’t realize he hit so hard.” You tried to laugh it off but it hurt your stomach muscles to move. “He hasn’t had an outburst like that in a while.”

“We should tell Reyes.”

Panic sunk behind the impact of the punch. You haven't seen Reyes since he was in your room, since the night he punched Morrison. Jesse helped you balance yourself and you both set off to the Blackwatch office.

* * *

 

You let Jesse enter first, wanting a buffer between you and Reyes. Commander Reyes was stretched out in his office chair staring at the screen in front of him, his hair also buzzed and face clean shaven, beanie sitting on his desk.

“Commander, I think we might have a problem.” Started Jesse. Reyes’s eyes focused on you.  

“She’s _not_   my problem.”

“Of course she is! You only put her on the team a few hours ago, and now Genji’s assultin’ agents in the halls because you had to go and change things on him.” Oh, poor Jesse. He thought Reyes meant Dr. O'Deorain. Reyes cleared his throat as he leaned forward.

“He’s what?”

“He punched a hole in a wall Commander Reyes.” You chimed in. “And he knocked me down. You know he has a problem with big changes, why would you switch him off Dr. Ziegler’s care so suddenly?”

“Blackwatch’s business isn’t your concern, agent.”

You swallowed hard. Jesse turned to you with worried brows. You sucked in a breath knowing he was right. Officially, you shouldn’t have any part of this. Officially, you should just fill out a report was starts with ‘Blackwatch agent Genji Shimada assaulted two Overwatch agents’, but it hurt to hear him say that. It felt like he had one of his shotguns pressed against your chest and had just pulled the trigger.

“The hell it’s not, she’s been on enough missions with us to be family.” Jesse was getting heated. He knew something else was going on, but he didn’t know the right questions to ask.

“I’ll be sure to check on agent Shimada, is there anything else you need to report?” He sounded completely annoyed. Jesse looked to you with pleading eyes. Reyes was acting like he didn’t care, like this wasn’t going to effect him. He reached for his beanie, bringing it over his head and crossed his arms in front of him.

“Reyes are you listenin’ to me? Genji’s ‘bout to go off the deep end, just checkin’ on him doesn’t mean much.”

“Well seeing as I seem to have lost control of everyone in my command, I’m not sure what else you want me to do Jesse.”

“Lost control? What, are you still mad ‘cause you caught me smokin’?”

“I’m really not in the mood to be questioned.” His voice was dark, and he leaned against his desk towards you both.

“Why are you bein’ so pissy-”

“If you keep pushing, I’m revoking-”

“Jesse!” You yelled grabbing his shoulder. You couldn’t take this anymore. Reyes wasn't mad at him, Genji wasn't the problem here. “He’s mad because I slept with Morrison.”

“You WHAT?”

_“I’m mad_   because I was terrified I was going to find you and Jack murdering each other!”

“You _WHAT?”_

“Shut up Jesse! Jack’s my best friend and you’re part of this family, and I’ve had to listen to you fighting each other for so long, break up so many arguments before they got physical, and spend so much time hearing both of you whine about the other, that I’m mad at myself for not seeing this coming!” His hand was slamming down against his desk. Jesse looked like he was about to pass out.

You’ve never wanted to disappear more in your life. You held your palm to your face, trying to cover your shame.

“Reyes, I-” You started, muffled through your hand.

“No. You don’t get to talk right now. Listen to me. If you, either of you-” He shifted pointed eyes to Jesse. “Try to keep secrets from me again, or lie to me, or even think of hiding something from me, then so help me, I will force you all to run a hundred laps a day. I’ll have the commissary stop selling you anything other than lettuce and celery. I will put you on every mission with bratty UN kids that will pull your hair and scream the whole time.” He paused and looked back to you. “I will assign you cleaning duties to mop up vomit at boot camp, do you both understand me?”

You nodded your head as quickly as you could, Jesse was nodding his but was unable to rip his eyes away from you.

“Now, I am going to make sure Genji is okay, talk him through the changes, but right now, I need you both to get the hell out of my office.”

You couldn’t have left faster if you tried. You darted down the hall to the tune of Jesse’s footsteps on your tail. You were back in the Overwatch wing by the time he spoke. 

“Are you kiddin’ me?” You heard him behind you. _“Commander Morrison?”_

You sped up, hands on your hips and breathing quickly.

“You fucked Commander Morrison, and you weren’t even gonna tell me about it?” He grabbed your shoulders, stopping you and flipped you around.

“I mean, I was going to.” You chewed your lip. “But he interrupted that.”

“Good god woman, have you lost your damn marbles?”

He brought you into a hug and you froze, arms hovering out from him in total confusion.

“Jesse, why are you hugging me?”

“I don’t know!” He said as he squeezed you tighter, nervous laughter bubbling up in his chest. “I think I’ve just had a weird day. I-I don’t wanna lose my family.” He was shaking in your arms, and you wrapped around him. You stayed there for a moment, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, and you ran your hand over his shaved head.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You squeezed him harder. "Genji's going to be okay. I'm sure we can even bum some cigarettes off one of the scummy looking cadets for you." 

He laughed against you, his arms keeping their grip, almost lifting you from the floor. Down the hall you saw a flash of blue flutter to a stop. Your eyes met Morrison’s and watched as he furrowed his brows. You don’t know what possessed you to do this, but you turned your head and placed a kiss against the side of Jesse’s skull. He pulled back from you, giggling as he wiped at the area you marked.

“Gross.” He laughed.

When you looked back, Morrison was gone and you caught a lump in your throat.


	11. Big Spoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrison opens up a little about his past, and there's an actual, real, constructive conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LONG chapter today <333

For the rest of the week morning training sessions were put on hold so Blackwatch could focus on training Dr. O'Deorain in combat techniques, in case they ever needed her in the field. Unable to contribute to that, you reluctantly showed up at the Overwatch practices sessions. You tried to power through the uncomfortable glances from other agents, the way they avoided being near you. Even the new ones seemed to think you were a ticking time bomb one wrong word from setting off and would go out of their way to avoid you.

This escalated to a whole different level when Morrison appeared on Friday, taking over the usual lead from the group of lieutenants who were fairly relaxed with training sessions.

When he stood tall with his hands on his hips in his Overwatch combat uniform, it almost looked like he could be running into the field with you. He almost looked and acted like the commander you thought he'd be when you first started, the one you had tacked to your wall a lifetime ago. Behind you, strike teams whispered to each other about how rare it was for him to lead practices, how lucky they were.

Asshole. He was probably here because he found out somehow you were doing this, he was probably just here to torture you.  

The murmurs about how lucky they were to have him there were quickly replaced by groans and complaints. Morrison expected perfection, expected everyone to be in sync, he pushed the limits beyond what leads usually did. You got the dirty looks, of course. The other agents whispered blames about his harsh commands on your new presence at practice. A hundred jumping jacks, all at the same time, even one person too fast or too slow, and everyone had to start over. Fifty pushups, hold in a planks for ten seconds each, if anyone falls you all start over. No leader worked practices this hard, especially when there wasn't a mission on the docket. Pissed off glances from the agents around you forced you to look at the ground.

Making the rounds through the rows of agents, Morrison’s heavy boots stopped in front of you.

“Hold.” He barked out, everyone froze on the final plank, bodies shaking and arms clearly in pain. He crouched in front of you, and you refused to look at him. Sweat was dripping from your forehead onto your arms. “Look up, agent.” His voice was booming above you.

Fuck. If you didn’t follow orders, then he was going to punish everyone. That’s a trait you wish Morrison and Reyes didn’t share. With rolled eyes you leaned your head back and locked eyes with him. The bruise on his chin was fading to a sickly yellow and green. Grunts were coming from agents behind you, bodies on the verge of giving out. He had that same stupid smirk on his face that he did when he demanded you call him by his title, when he was buried deep in you. Your face blushed and you hoped he thought it was just because of the workout.

“At ease.” He stood again. A chorus of relived noises and thuds against the ground sounded around you. You breathed out and dropped. “Not you.” He placed the bottom of his boots against your fingers, not stepping down, but enough to get the message across. He lifted his head, looking to the teams. “Two miles, then you’re free to go.”

Exasperated agents slowly collected themselves and half jogged out the doors to the track. You stayed, chest to the ground, until Morrison spoke after everyone was out of ear shot.

“You’ve been avoiding me all week.”

“I’ve been busy.” You growled at the ground. He moved his foot off your fingers and placed it in front of you.   

“Find the time in your _busy_ schedule to stop by my room tonight at seven. I’ll make you dinner. We need to talk about work.”

“I’d rather eat dirt than have dinner with you.” You stood, snarling at him.

“Will you stop trying to evade-”

“You’re disgusting-”

“You need an attitude adjustment. Make your laps three miles-”

“I’m not going to let you boss me ar-”

“Make it three, or I’ll-”

“Unbelievable, punishing me just because I won’t eat your shitty dinner-”

He grabbed your chin between his thumb and pointer, forcing you to look him in the eyes and his face pointed in frustration.

“Three miles, or you can kiss me. Your choice.”

You froze, mouth hanging open and your voice caught. Your cheeks were burning, and his icy eyes focusing on you was only making you blush harder. His thumb at your chin grazed up across your bottom lip and you could see his breathing shudder as a flash of sadness crossed his face when you didn't move.

Suddenly with nothing to say you pulled back, stepping away from him. You chewed at the spot he touched and pushed out a hard breath. Before you could let your body give into what it wanted, you turned and ran towards the doors leading out to the track. Over your shoulder you checked before closing them behind you, Morrison stood still, looking between you and his hand in front of him.

* * *

 

You forked at your plate, picking up pieces of food that were normally appetizing. You inspected each piece lazily before placing each back again.

“Somethin’ wrong with your food?” Jesse watched you and grew more worried with every ignored bite.

“No. No it’s fine. I’m just thinking.”

“You must be pretty lost in thought.” You looked up, Reyes and Jesse had already finished their dinner. Reyes was giving you a knowing stare, head nodded your way.  

“Will you stop being stubborn? Just go. We’ll eat the rest of that.”

“Go? Where do you need to be?” Jesse leaned towards you. You looked to Reyes, who grabbed the edge of your plate and scooted it towards them.

“She’s got a date with Jack.”

“Ugh, it’s not a date. Don’t make me sick.” You stood pretending to gag. As you walked by, Jesse grabbed your wrist.

“Hey. It's been too long since we've been able to catch up, come visit later okay?”

You nodded.

You could see on his face, the way he was faking his smile, and the way he ran his hand over his stubbled head, he was feeling left out. He pulled at your heartstrings when he looked like that, especially now with the clean shaven face. He looked more like a lost kid than a man in his 20s who just wanted to spend time with his friend.   

“I’ll catch you guys later.” You replied, squeezing his hand before you hurried out the door.  

* * *

 

You knocked and waited. When Morrison didn’t answer immediately you checked the time on your phone. It was only a little past the hour, he did say you were welcome to invite yourself in, and to be here at seven. You decided to let yourself in, but just as you were about to punch in Morrison’s key code, the door next to his opened. Commander Lacroix stuck his neck out, holding a phone to his ear and raising his eyebrows when he saw you.

“Hmm.” He thoughtfully hummed to himself.

“Good evening, Commander Lacroix.” Your face burned as you nodded his way. He spoke in French to the person on the other end of his call, and although you didn't speak a lick of it, the way his eyes moved over your body told you he was talking about you.

The door in front of you slid open with a beaming Morrison, and Lacroix continued his conversation as he closed his door.

“I didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

“Yeah, well, don’t read into it. Commissary doesn’t make the best food.”

“Come in.” He stepped back, opening a gap for you to enter. You stood next to him staring up at his stupid blond hair as he closed the door.

It struck you as odd, to see him dressed so informally. His horrible blue coat hung neatly on the wall next to the door, he was in a plain T-shirt with his arm muscles popping beneath the short sleeves. Even stranger, he was wearing sweatpants. Not his combat pants, not the blue uniform ones he wore with his commanders coat, no, honest to god cheap gray sweatpants.

He smirked back at you when he noticed your eyes cast down. He had to have known the pants were leaving little to the imagination. He gave you a small nod toward your feet. You stared back at him with a sour face and bent down to untie your combat boots.

“I’m still cooking. What do you want to drink?”

“Arsenic.”

“Very funny. Water, coffee? Something with an edge?”

“Water.” You reluctantly responded. You watched him as he searched through his cabinets in the kitchen, pulling a cup that looked identical to the ones in the commissary. Shoeless, you made your way to the table you were at only a week ago and sat facing him. You brought your knees to your chest, hugging your legs as he placed the cup in front of you.

“Unfortunately, there’s no poison in it.” He said as you eyed the water suspiciously.

You stayed silent when he turned back to the kitchen, stirring something in pots on the stove. This was a Morrison you’d never thought you’d seen, one you never even considered as a possibility. Dressed for comfort, cooking his own meal, even his hair was just slightly messier than usual. He seemed like he was enjoying this, sneaking glances at you. Every time he moved your way and you caught a glimpse of the front of his pants you blushed, burying your face into your knees hoping he wouldn’t see.

He seemed comfortable in your silence, letting you take in the scene, letting you be the first to speak.  

“I didn't know you knew how to cook.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

That's true. You knew some things from digging through his files, from the stories Reyes tells, but you didn't actually know him. The room settled to silence again, small sounds of popping coming from the stove top being the only noise you could focus on.

“Tell me.” Your fingers played with a loose thread on your pants. “Tell me something about you.” Your voice was quiet, scared even, to ask him to open up to you. Morrison leaned against his counter, crossing his legs.

“Are you being serious, or are you asking so you can mock me?”

“I’m trying to be nice, Morrison.” You huffed out. His eyes studied you, trying to decipher if you really meant it or not. He glanced at the pan on the stove then back to you, mulling over the things he could say.

“I once won a corn eating contest.”

“Okay. You’ve got my interest.” You raised your eyebrows at the… interesting choice for a fun fact. “How many did you eat?”

He paused, looking into the air in thought as if he was recalling the exact moments in his mind and counting each cob.

“I think… nine?”

_“Nine?”_

“I was a teenager. It was Indiana.” He shrugged, turning back to the pan.

“Did you have to tell me something that would make me lose my appetite?”

“Hmm, well…” He thought again. “I also know how to play the piano.”

“Yeah, right. I thought you grew up on a farm?”

“I did. Dad was a farmer, mom taught music at the university we lived near.”

You sipped from the cup, wondering if you should pry more. There was a hint of sadness in his voice, something told you the farmer and the musician were no longer around. He checked over his shoulder and saw you staring into your water.

“I’d love to see you play, sometime.” You finally said, looking up to him.

He stirred whatever was in the pan slowly, then laughed to himself and turned back to you.

“This is strange.”

You _hmmd_ back at him in question.

“Just, talking to you. Having a conversation that's not about work or... anything else related to it.”

“Don’t ruin it, Morrison.” You warned. He hid his smile by turning away from you.  

“Well, what about you? Tell me something I don’t know.”

You pulled the loose string with a snap as you chewed your lip and remembered his thumb gliding across it.

“I dream about you a lot.”

“Oh?”

“Sorry, that’s wrong. I have nightmares with you in them, a lot.”

“Oh.” He moved to grab plates from his cabinets, setting them on the counter and slowly moving whatever he was cooking onto them. “Anything you want to share?” He brought a piece to his lips to taste.

“They’re always about the explosion, and they always end with you, and me, and...” He turned to look at you as he bit off a chunk of cooked carrot. “And, you always say the same thing, over and over again every time.”

You faced away from him not wanting to tell him, but your gut telling you that you needed to. He placed a plate in front of you and stayed silent as he sat across from you, not yet touching his food. You could hear him swallow.   

“Stay with me. I’ve got you.” You shifted until your legs were under the table and you sat normally in the chair again, dropping your arms on either side of the plate as you stared at the food he made. “I think you must have said it when you were carrying me back to the drop ship. I don’t remember you saying it, but I hear it every night.”

Something about saying it out loud made your body rush with emotions. It felt like a weight was lifted from your chest, that you no longer felt like you needed to avoid talking what happened that night. He looked like he was catching his breath, his face dropping with realization. 

“You don’t remember?” He placed his hand on the table next to yours, fingers almost touching.

“After the explosion is a blur.” Your fingers twitched his way, pinky and ring fingers landing on the tops of his nails and interlocking with his fingers.

“Do you want to know? About when I found you?” His voice was so gentle it hurt.

You thought for a long time, the sound of buzzing slowly growing in your ears, the smell of brown sugar carrots and coriander chicken fading to the smell of forest fire. You were as ready for this as you ever would be.  

“Yes.” You breathed out as you moved your hand until all your fingers were between his. He squeezed you and pushed his plate to the side.

“I was the first one to get there, we could hear you screaming all the way from the drop ship. You were the only person making noise or moving so we assumed you were…”

“The only one alive?”

“At that time, yes. You were in a lot of pain from the fire.” He glanced to the scars on your arm. “When I picked you up, you tried to fight me. You were yelling, telling me to put you down, to help the others. You tried to slap me, but you could barely move. I was trying to keep your attention because you had one pupil completely blown out and the other barely visible. If you had passed out completely that would have meant permanent brain damage.” He squeezed your hand again, taking in a big breath. “I couldn’t understand most of what you were saying, but you kept telling me that you hated me. So I just kept repeating that to you, trying to keep you focused. Even when I was patching you up and trying to get a biotic emitter on you in the drop ship.”

He paused, seeing you were shaking, skin paled and clammy. The buzzing in your brain was becoming overwhelming. No more. No. More.

“I think that’s all I can handle.” You said, voice wavering and a lump forming in your throat. He quickly moved from his chair to the floor and knelt at your side. You took your hand from his and wiped your sweating palm on your pants, eyes unable to look at him. He placed his hand on your neck, ends of fingers tangling in the base of your hair.

“You did what you could. I’m so sorry this happened. I’m sorry for everything I did. I will spend my whole life apologizing to you for what I did.”

You thought about pushing him again, but it didn’t feel the same. Your breathing sobbed dryly as you realized if you weren’t so fucking hard headed you would have leaned forward and kissed him, seeking comfort from the person who made you this way, you wanted to forget about the dinner and let him wrap his arms around you, carry you into his bedroom and cry out the emotions you were feeling as you moaned his name.

But it hurt. Your stomach twisted and stabbed with an aching pain you couldn’t ignore. Why did he invite you here in the first place? It wasn't to talk about this.

You’ve been sitting here for too long, eyes dried and staring blankly ahead, Morrison waiting for you to say something. You couldn’t think about the explosion anymore, couldn’t think about the hospital, and the lawyers, and the sound of breaking glass or you’d fall back into the same patterns as before.  

“You said you wanted to talk about work?” You choked out then cleared your throat. You forced yourself to cut into the food in front of you. Morrison sighed and looked away from you, frustrated or upset you couldn't tell which. He drew back to stand and sat down in his chair across from you.

“Right.” He stuffed food into his mouth as he thought. “I was hoping, if we can keep things peaceful between us for a while, that you may want to start leading field missions. Since your title is captain, after all.”

“You know I’ve wanted to do that for a while, Morrison.”

“Yes, but leading takes a certain… temperament. And we would need to focus on your shooting skills, because your marks are not great.”

“I’m willing to work on it.” Your chest was no longer hurting, no longer focused on the dreams or the smell of smoke. 

“But most importantly, we need to make sure you don’t go AWOL if something happens out there. I won’t be there to rescue you if another explosion happens. I’m not just asking you to hone in your skills. I’m asking you to get help with things that may trigger you.”

You let him talk. His food tasted good. Really good, way better than anything you’d had over the last year. You couldn’t even remember how long it’s been since you’ve had a home cooked meal. You were eating it faster than you should be.  

“I’m thinking a team of six, including you. I’ll have you start shadowing Amari, she’s one of the best, if not the best captain. You’ll be working with people, agents, you may not agree with. We can’t have you fighting orders or going off gut feelings. You’ll need to stick to the rules and be a leader.”   

“I can handle that.” That sounded a little more bitter than you meant.

“I’m not putting you out in the field again until I _know_ you can handle it.”       

You nodded your head as you continued to eat.

Part of you still wanted to fight, tell him he should trust you, to put you out now. But the other side of you saw this for what it was, a wakeup call. You had to get better, be better, otherwise you’d be stuck doing lame missions for Overwatch or retcon missions for Blackwatch for the rest of your life.

You’ll start with shooting first. He was right, your aim could definitely use some work. If you were going to do all this just to get what your title is supposed to entail, you were going to need something from Morrison. You wanted his help, but you also wanted a reward. 

“Can we make a deal?” You asked, leaning into the table.

“I’m not putting you into the field if you’re not ready-”

“When I can prove to you I can handle it, you have to play the piano for me.”

A smile spread across his face and he moved his hand to hide it.  

“Alright. Deal.” He tried to stop the grin as he held his hand out to shake on it, but he was beaming. When you shook on it, he finished off the last few bites on his plate.

You were both smiling. It wasn’t a mocking smile, not a smirk, but true happiness that neither of you hid. And it felt good, it felt so good to not be bogged down by the thought of your dreams chasing you when you close your eyes, to know things were going to change for the better.

“You know, I honestly thought that was going to be much harder.”

You kicked his leg lightly under the table and shot him a glare over your upturned lips, silently telling him not to push his luck. As you finished your plate he played with your fingertips, watching you and taking in the moment. In the florescent light of his kitchen his hair no longer screamed for attention, his eyes were soft and took care not to stare at your scars. You felt silly, almost, that you were just in that moment taking the time to really look at his features, to silently compliment his jaw line and wonder if his lips tasted like the food he made.  

“Thank you, for dinner.” A week ago this would have seemed like an impossibility, it scared you how normal this felt. “And for giving me a chance to prove myself.”

He stood and gathered the empty plates, taking them to the sink. With a smile still across his face he held his hand out to you to help you from the chair, but you hesitated.

There was still a seed of doubt deep in your belly that told you not to trust him. You stood on your own and his face slowly dropped. His eyes looked like they were pleading, like there was something else he desperately wanted to say. He was bouncing his foot as he stood, watching as you checked the time on your phone.

The way he looked at you made your heart pulse in your chest, made you remember his mouth kissing your skin. You can’t do this again, can’t put yourself through feeling the guilt of wondering what Arntz would think if she knew you were blushing as you stood in front of him. You fiddled with your nails and began to walk towards the door to leave, fearing if you stayed any longer you’d fall into repeating last weeks mistake.

“Wait-” He tried to grab your shoulder but you evaded him. “Please, stay. Just for a while longer. There’s more I need to talk to you about.”

“I should really get going-”

“I just want to talk, it won’t be like last time-”

“That’s why I’m leaving, I don’t know if I trust myself with you.”

He stared back at you, wide eyed and cheeks growing pinker by the second.

“Is McCree really just a friend?” He looked like he even surprised himself when he blurted it out. You recoiled from him, surely he couldn’t be serious?

“Careful Morrison, you’re sounding jealous.” You cocked your head to the side, stitching your eyebrows together in judgement.

His blush was spreading across his face, he looked angry and ashamed he even let himself ask.

“You spend so much time with him, with Blackwatch. It’s just hard to believe-”

“What’s hard to believe? That I would have platonic friendships?”

“You only seem to have male friends-”

“And what? That means I have to be fucking one of them? Do you think I’m sleeping with Commander Reyes too?”

“I did actually-”

“Fuck you, Morrison.”

“You’re too comfortable with them! Always alone with Jesse, visiting with Genji if he’s in the medical wing, and the way Reyes holds you while you’re sparring-”

“Would you listen to yourself? What a shitty thing to say to someone.”

God dammit, of course he had to ruin this. You were actually going to leave with a smile hidden on your lips, heart fluttering with school-girl-like excitement, but he just had to say something so stupid.

You made a point to show him you snatched your boots from the ground, and stormed out of his room. He ran behind you, calling your name all the way to elevator.

“I didn’t mean to make you mad, it’s just-”

“It’s just _what_ Morrison?”

“I am jealous! Okay? I know I have no right to be. We’re not together, you can be with whoever you want, I know that.” He ran a clawed hand through his hair and groaned. “I feel stupid for thinking this could ever work. We still can’t even be around each other without you blowing up over nothing.”

“I’m _what?_ You’re accusing me of sleeping with every man in Blackwatch-”

“You know that’s not what I meant-”

“You have a lot of nerve-”

“Please, just come back and have a real conversation with me about this. I just want to know where I stand in your life.” His hands landed on the sides of your neck, thumbs along the jawline of your chin.

“Get your hands off me.” You had your arms crossed tightly in front of you, fingers barely hanging onto the edges of your boots. Immediately he dropped his arms to his side, inhaling a shaky breath. “You’re a horrible person.”

“I hate that I feel this way about you.” His icy eyes froze you to core.

“And how exactly do you feel?” You snidely asked him.

He sucked on his cheek. Unable to say it. Unable to tell you what you both already knew.

“I’ll be in the Blackwatch commons.” You finally said, backing into the elevator and hitting the floor you needed much harder than you should have. You watched as the doors closed on him, his shoulders tensing and face reddened but unable to break eye contact until he was cut off. You let out a hard gasp as soon as he was out of sight, backing against the mirrored wall and caught your footing before you fell to the floor.   

* * *

 

You shouldered through the Blackwatch commons, past the crews and other agents clad in the dark uniforms who didn’t bother with second glances. There was something comforting about not being stared at when you walked through their area like they did in the Overwatch wings. They kept their heads down, kept their conversations to themselves, if they whispered about you, you couldn't hear it. You were carrying your boots in your arms, flying by the doors to other Blackwatch agent’s rooms until you reached Jesse and Genji’s. Neither of them seemed surprised to see you when you burst through the door and threw your shoes to the floor.

“That asshole!” You shouted as you paced their floor. Genji groaned, his face plate off and resting on the stand next to his bunk. You hadn’t seen him since he pushed you to the ground. You should ask him how he’s doing, make him apologize for hitting you- but you were too riled up.

“Date didn’t go as planned?”

“It wasn’t a fucking date, Jesse.” You rubbed the sides of your head. “God, he’s so infuriating. An actual child, with the thought process of one. Apparently it’s just next to impossible for me to have _friends?”_       

“Darlin’ you’re not makin’ a lick of sense.”

“I thought things were going well. We talked through it Jesse, I was finally able to talk about all the shit he put me through and tonight we talked about getting me with my own team? But he just can’t see me happy, he just has to ruin it-”

The door behind you slid open, Reyes leaned against the frame to listen in after hearing your voice carry all the way down the hall to his room. Genji watched you over the edge of a book, his eyebrows up in surprise, trying to piece together what he missed.

“Apparently I’m just the slut of Blackwatch, getting dicked down by every man in sight-”

“Whoa, slow down. What happened?” Jesse started sputtering.

“Who said that?” Genji leaned forward towards you.

“Jack called you _a slut?”_ Came Reyes’s voice from the door, you saw him stand to his full height, fists balling at his side.

“No, ugh.” You dropped next to Jesse on his bunk, covering your face with both your hands. “No, I’m just frustrated, he didn’t call me that. He was asking if there was anything going on between me and Jesse, that he thought there was something between me and you-” You gestured to Reyes. “Something about me only having male friends. But-” You groaned into your palms. “It was just the way he was saying it, what he was implying.”

“I get it.” Said Jesse at your side. You turned to him in utter horror, anger written across your face. “Look at how we are now. How close you are to me, how comfortable you are with us because of all the time we’ve spent together. I can see how that would look from an outside perspective.”

You groaned as you brought your knees to your chest again, dropping your head against them as you ran your hand through your hair.

“I’m going to go talk to him.”

“No, Reyes. She needs to work this out with him on her own. We can’t be fightin’ all her fights.” You turned your head to face Jesse who was giving you a look a parent would give their child if they misbehaved in public. He’s had it up to here with your shit and you could tell he was about to kick you out if you tried to blow this out even more.

“He’s right.” Genji chimed in, agreeing, albeit confused what exactly had happened. 

You chewed at your nail, looking between all of them. With a nod Reyes moved to leave the room.

“Well I’m right down the hall, if you change your mind.” He never was good at being a comfort. Maybe that’s why Jesse took to being your friend so quickly, he needed someone to talk to and Reyes could definitely sometimes be the same as trying to talk to a statue.

Then you spent hours talking to Jesse and Genji. You tried to describe how Morrison looked at you, how he made you feel and how confused you were, how frustrated you were still. Skirting around anything related to the contract, you tried to explain how relieved you were just to have finally been able to open up about it. You weren’t making sense, but neither of them stopped you as you tried to talk to it out. Jesse tried to relate, in his way, to the issues he had while he was in the Deadlock gang. Genji would open his mouth to say something, wanting to talk about his own family but would quietly look at the ground instead. 

They didn't offer you solutions or advise, because they knew all too well you wouldn't take it. But just talking about it, explaining it felt almost therapeutic. 

At some point you fell asleep, exhausted body from the practice session and exhausted mind from Morrison you slipped into a dream. A nightmare.

 

There was an uneasy feeling in your stomach, it felt and looked like you were in Commander Reyes's office but the furniture wasn’t the same. You were in trouble for something and were waiting for Reyes to come in to assign a punishment, you think he was blaming you for blowing up the mines. You sat in the chair across from his desk with your hands in your lap, but it wasn't the usual guest chair, it was the hideous tan one from the hospital in that backwoods town. Morrison appeared before you, sitting in Reyes's computer chair, he was talking and you couldn't understand a word he said. Your cheeks flushed, a heat spreading through you that you couldn't explain.

“Jack.” You called out. The bruise Reyes left on his chin was oozing blood, your blood.  

“Stay with me.” His lips were moving saying something else, but that's all you heard. You could feel yourself crying.

“Please Jack, say something else.”

The desk was smoking, paper ash shooting from the drawers and knobs, drifting into the air with flickers of sparks that your eyes followed up to the ceiling.

“I've got you.”

“Please! Anything, say anything else!” You were begging with him, body curling in on itself. His bright blue jacket was melting onto the carpet below.

He stared at you. He stared at you the same way he did when you went into the elevator. Eyes that begged for you to step out, to take his hand and head back to his room.

“Stay with me.”

God, you were going to go fucking insane if you heard him say that one more time. The desk was still smoking, the TV screens on the wall of his office were now windows, rain pounding at the glass, threatening to break it, to shatter and send the pieces flying into your skin.

“Stay with me.” Morrison lifted your chin, now in front of you. His face and hair streaked with ash, smeared under his eyes and into his tear ducts. You kissed him, he tasted how Jesse smelled in the morning and you gagged. When you drew back he was Reyes, clean shaven and looking at you with sad eyes, he tried to kiss you again.

You tried to scream. The desk burst into millions of pieces as the floor beneath you gave out. You tried to jump to safety, tried to jump where Morrison’s ugly blue jacket stuck to the ground in a melted mess. You missed and fell into a bottomless pit, the only thing around you as you dropped, smoke and embers.

The feeling of falling sent your body into panic, you could feel the fear in your chest, in your palms, on your scalp, across the soles of your feet.

 

You woke with a gasp. The sensation of panic still rushing through your body. 

Jesse was sound asleep, hunched against the headrest of his bed. Across the room Genji was curled under blankets, a soft red glow from the tubes on his body dimly lighting the room. Neither of them stirred, but you were panting and sweating. A knot in your stomach hurt beyond belief. The clock in their room read that it was almost three in the morning, no one would be awake right now.

Tears streamed down your face without you realizing until you touched your cheeks. You laced up your boots and tiptoed out of their room, thinking of heading to your own so you could climb into your own bed and not disturb them with your problems.

At the Overwatch wing elevator you hesitated to push the button for your floor. You were a mess. You thought about turning around to go back to Jesse, he never minded when you cuddled against him (minus the few times he called you a heater and had to push you off of him because he was sweating so bad). You could knock on Reyes’s door, it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve gone to him late at night. Last time, he made hot chocolate that had cinnamon and almonds in it and timed your breathing to keep you calm.   

But your gut knew, finger hovered over the button for his floor. You shouldn't go see him like this, he already thinks you're crazy and after you stormed off earlier, going back now would only add fuel to that fire. You stood there staring at the buttons for so long that the doors closed. You were forced to see yourself in the reflective walls. Fucking Morrison. He was like a magnet, like your body needed to feel him again, needed to feel his hands on your scars and the way his fingers tangled with your hair.  

Fuck.

* * *

 

You didn't bother knocking. You carefully punched in his birthday, slid the door open as quietly as you could and clicked it shut behind you as you steadied your breath.

Boots first. You left them next to the door, haphazardly kicking them off next to his tall armored boots he wore with his commander uniform. With your phone facing the floor, you let your screen light the way to his bedroom.

Before you could pass the threshold you heard shifting under his sheets, your name called out almost as a whisper riddled with sleep.

He clicked on his bedside lamp and got a good look at you. Sheepishly holding your arm, your eyes were bloodshot, red veins prominent against the whites and cheeks puffy from rubbing tears away. You looked like you didn't know what you were doing here, like you accidentally stumbled into the commander's quarters and were looking for a way out. He looked equally confused, unsure if you were really here or if he was having a vivid dream.

“Do you want something more comfortable to wear?” He yawned, trying to hide it behind the back of his hand. God dammit why was he so casual about this? You literally just entered his home, in the dark, at three in the morning after you fought with him hours before.

You nodded harshly and he stood, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed then moving to his dresser to search. He was still wearing the sweatpants from earlier, but had chosen to sleep shirtless and your eyes wandered over his muscles. When he turned to you he had another oversized shirt, this one a deep red with white faded letters across the front reading 'INDIANA UNIVERSITY’. He brought it to you, holding it in front of him waiting for you to accept it.

“The things I said to you were out of line. You're right, I was being shitty. I’m sorry.” His eyelids were heavy and staring at the tear beading down your cheek.

“I don’t want to talk about that.” You said as you took the shirt from him. He sat on the edge of his bed, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched you turn away from him to change. You faced away knowing he was staring, knowing you could have gone into the other room to change. You threw down your combat shirt to his floor, hands hesitating when you brought them to your back to unhook your bra but committing to it and tossing it next to your shirt.

The red shirt could have been a dress on your frame. Once it was over your shoulders, you undid your belt and dropped your combat pants. You felt like you could breathe again, like your clothes weren't smothering you. He held a hand out to you, hoping you would take it, hoping he could help you into bed with him, or into his lap.  

Instead you passed by him and climbed into his bed from the opposite side. Sat next to him, legs crossed, you wondered what the hell you thought you were doing here. Rubbing your eyes was only making them redder, only making then burn more. He landed a hand softly on your knee and you jerked away from him.

“Are you doing this to be cruel? Pulling me in and pushing me away like this?” His body rested against his headboard as he looked at you. “Is this supposed to be your new way of making me miserable?”

“No, Morrison. I'm just-” Hurt and seeking comfort in places you shouldn't be? Scared of admitting how happy being around him makes you feel? “Just, lay with me. Please.”

His eyebrows furrowed down over tired eyes, giving you an exasperated look before he clicked off the light and snuck back under his sheets.

Your hands searched for him in the dark, finding the hard muscles of his back as he laid on his side facing away from you. For a moment you let your palm rest against him, feeling his steady breathing. You wiggled under his blankets, scooted your body closer to his, closer still, until you were pressed against him. Burying your face in his back and your arm wrapped at his waist, you balled your hand into a fist and pressed it into his chest.

He put his hand over yours, bent his face down and kissed your knuckles. You focused on his breathing, trying to match him, letting your chest rise and fall with his. You squeezed tightly, trying to get as close to him as you could, feeling silly about spooning a man so much larger than you. But he played with your fingers, continued to kiss your knuckles until you finally gave in and relaxed your body, falling asleep against him.   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone who reads this, I love every single one of you!!! (• ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°•)


	12. , after all.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning sex and greeting the new team member make for a weird day.

It was raining outside. You could hear the droplets pitter pattering against the glass, far away muffled thunder rolling through the sky. For a moment you thought you were in your room, opening your eyes you expected to look out the window above your bed. When you blinked awake you saw messy blond hair, eyelashes fluttering as dreams passed behind eyelids. A mouth that was closed and more relaxed than you'd ever seen it before. This close, you could see the smile lines coming in on his skin, tiny dark freckles that were few and far in between. A bruise still on his jaw line, just barely there now.

The clouds from the sky outside dimmed his room to a cool grey, muted the red on the shirt you wore. He was laying on his back, chest expanding with every light breath, dark blond hair trailing down his midsection and below the blanket resting over his waist. You watched him as you listened to the rain, not wanting to move, not wanting to wake him.

As you stretched your toes you realized you were more intertwined than you thought. You laid on your side facing him, one leg draped across his thighs, his hand lazily placed on the side of your thigh and his elbow resting against your hip. His fingers twitched, rubbing against your skin gently and a small smile started at the corner of his lips. You reached out, running your hand through his chest hair as softly as you could, letting your fingers drag along his skin.

His face slowly turned to meet yours, eyelids barely opening to look at you.

“Good morning.” He smiled with a light squeeze to your thigh.

“Hi.” Was all you managed to get out as you buried half your face into his pillow.

He lifted his head towards his chest and kissed the side of your hand, kissed at your wrist, before dropping back to look at you again. You let your fingers wander over his collarbone, across his shoulders and back again. Your touches were giving him goosebumps, but he curled into you. His body stretched, hand moving around your thigh to your knee then back again in sweeping comforting movements. Your hand on his chest fell to the side of his rib cage, grabbing and hugging him close, you pressed your forehead into the top of his arm and kissed his raised skin.

The rain against his window seemed gentler than it usually did. You raised your eyes to his as you heard his lips part.

“I'm glad you're still here.” His hand squeezed you where it landed, just to the side above your knee.

“Thank you, for the shirt.” You nuzzled against him. Your fingers trailed across his abs, following the hard lines until they fell beneath the blanket. You sucked your lip and debated with yourself, you were still mad at him for what he said last night, but your skin tingled at the thought of having him touch you again.

You felt his stomach jump as you dropped further, trailing down until your hand rested just above the edge of his pants against his hips. His fingers curled against you, palm digging into your thigh with anticipation.

Your fingertips snaked under his waistband, slowly dragging down until they were running over hair and around his base. He let out a heavy sigh as you wrapped your fingers around him, already half hard. It almost took your breath away as you felt him grow in your hand so quickly, wrist twisting with long drawn out pumps as he got harder. Your body felt like it was tangled against his as he held your thigh against him, pushing his hand up until it stopped just at the curve of your ass and dipped fingers down until they met the edge of your panties.

He let out a deep moan as your hand worked him, eyes fluttering before they turned to watch you. There was no darkness to hide how you were blushing, your cheeks burning as your face pressed against his arm in attempt to hide. You were at an awkward angle, constrained by the band on his pants and the way your body was positioned. 

With a low whine he moved swiftly, using his free arm to swing around and grab your waist. Before you knew it, he rolled you on top of him, your chest against his, red shirt pushed up to the middle of your back and your knees spread on either side of his legs. Your hand released him somewhere in the sudden movement, and he pressed hot and hard into your stomach. You were flat against him, blankets tangling on top of you, and you looked to him in surprise.

He kissed the tip of your nose, eyes cast down to your lips looking with deep wanting. You caught your breath. If you cross that line you're admitting to yourself, and him, this was more than just sex. You couldn't do it, couldn't bring yourself to it. So you sat up, pressing your hips to his, scooting back until your core rode against him. One of his hands gripped onto your hip, the other ran his thumb against the outside of your panties. You twitched against him when he pressed down and circled on your clit, shuddering as you realized just how wet you already were.

You shimmied the top of his pants down until his cock sprung out and he dug his fingers harder into your hip as you gripped him. You gave him a mischievous smile, tempted to repeat the motions that drove him so crazy last time.  

“Don’t tease me.” He begged, neck muscles strained as he pushed the back of his head into the pillow beneath him.

That only made you want to do it more. Everything in you said to not give into what he wants, to fight everything he asks and take full control. But his mouth hung open in shaky breaths, he pulsed in your hand desperate for more, and he stared at you under downed brows. He wanted you. He just wanted you, no games. 

You lifted your hips enough to reach down and move the edge of your panties to the side. With the fabric pushed away you rocked your slit against his tip down to your entrance. You had to go slow, with nothing to stretch you before, this would be painful if you weren’t careful. He held his breath as you lowered onto him, tip pushing in and opening you wide. With little gasps and your toes curling, you were orienting yourself to the feeling of him in you, bouncing lightly against him, against just the end of him, your walls accepting the full feeling as you spread your heat over him.

You leaned back, putting your weight on your hands gripping above his knees behind you. When you looked to him, you realized how thin the shirt you had on was, your hard nipples were almost visible through the fabric. Morrison was blushing, face trying to match the same shade as the shirt around you, eyes focusing on seeing himself enter you. You carefully lowered your hips all the way, bobbing in his lap against him, all the way down until you took all of him.

_This._ This is exactly what you wanted, this was what your body needed. To feel his hands on you again, to have his full attention as you rolled your hips against him. His hands explored you while you rutted on him, building up a tight ball of heat in your stomach. He felt so warm, his hands running over you and grabbing you in all the right ways made your head dizzy. He wanted to touch you, to help you, to have you come undone against him. His fingers worked against your nub, pressing and rolling and sending sparks through your nerves. You didn't bother to hide the way he was making you feel this time, openly moaning and gasping with every pleasured shudder that rolled through you. 

Through shallow thrusting and circling in his lap you leaned forward again grabbing his hand still working at you and brought it up. Unsure what you were doing, at first he cupped the side of your face, thumb running over your cheek as you smiled down to him. You leaned your face into his hand, turned to kiss the center of his palm then looked back to him with half lidded eyes. You guided him to hold your chin the way he did yesterday when you were alone with him during practice, his thumb resting on the center of your bottom lip.

As you ground against him, he let out a loud uncontrolled groan. You parted your lips, locking with his eyes as you wrapped around his fingernail and sucked until his thumb pressed into your mouth, against your tongue. His breathing was no longer steady, his pupils wide against the blue behind them as he felt you twitching around him and sucking his finger. The hand on your hip almost hurt from the way he was holding onto you, helping you move at a rapid pace. The noises he made beneath you, oh they were beautiful. Moans turning into embarrassed laughs that caught in his throat every time your tongue wrapped around his digit. The way he focused on you, it looked like at any moment he would flip you and pound you so hard into his mattress you'd forget your own name.    

“Touch-” He couldn’t think properly enough to put words together. “Touch yourself. I want to watch you.”

You hummed around his thumb and dropped a hand beneath you, two fingers working at your clit and you shuddered against his body, legs twitching and tightening with every bounce. Fuck. He filled you so perfectly, stretched you enough to drive you crazy with every downward movement. It drove you towards the edge knowing that he couldn’t look away from you. Eyes focused on your mouth, on the way your lips wrapped around him. Focused on your chest as it jumped beneath the shirt every time you bobbed against him. Focused on your fingers working yourself into uncontrolled moans, on the way your hips were angled to give him glimpses as he entered you.

He already looked close, face twisted, gritting his teeth and hard breaths pushing through his nose, his chest was panting with every bounce against him. He surprised you by jerking his thumb from your mouth and quickly sitting up to wrap both arms around your back. Hands ran under the back of the shirt, digging into your skin, holding you tight as hips snapping up into yours.

You were no longer leading this, his mouth was all over your neck, against your chin, panting next to your ear. You wrapped one arm around his head, fingers twisting into his slept on messy hair, your other holding onto his shoulder, trying to keep a grip on him as he pounded up into you. He kissed at your jawline, kissed down your neck. You shook in his hold, between kisses and gasps he was muttering your name, whispering loving affections about the noises you made, panting the things he found beautiful about you onto your skin with his lips.               

His thrusts were getting harder, faster, letting his body be overtaken with the feeling of you around him, your walls clenching and twitching against him. He was moaning something under his breath and your head was swimming overwhelmed by him. He nipped at your neck, teeth trying to stay gentle as he sucked on your skin, tasting the salt of your sweat. This was how he wanted you, wrapped up in him, unable to form real words and giving into him completely. For now he stayed at your neck, sucking and kissing and trying desperately not to kiss your lips. 

Final hard motions snapping into you again and again, he was shaking as he came, filling you and landing kisses against soft pinked skin on your neck. Not wanting to leave you behind, he brought a hand down and worked your clit with his thumb.

His thrusts almost sent you over the edge on their own, but when he pressed against your nub your body went into overdrive. The heat in your stomach bursting across your skin and sending hot tingles to your fingertips, forcing your feet to curl, your stomach to pulse. He was already done when you came, your body rutting against him, thighs squeezing against his legs and whines escaping your mouth. You pressed your lips into his hair to muffle yourself. You could feel him smile, lips still kissing where he sucked, his fingers not stopping until your body fell heavy and heaving against his chest. He let you catch your breath, circling his hand back around and running his fingers along your spine. He was still in you, his cum slowly leaking out onto him, he felt the final throes of your orgasm rock through you.

With a last kiss to your neck, he slowly drew back and rested against his elbows behind him. The sound of rain hitting the window came back to you, now no longer wrapped up in Morrison’s world. His eyes watched you as you slowly raised your hips away from him and he was pulled out of you. In an awkward motion you moved your panties back in place and flopped back into the bed next to him, folding your hands together over your stomach and staring at the ceiling as you focused on the droplets hitting the glass.  

He brought his pants back over his hips and scooted closer to you until his shoulder touched yours, side by side laid back with you also staring up.    

“I don’t know what I did to deserve that.” He half laughed to himself. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I definitely didn’t deserve you after the way I talked to you last night.”

“Finally, something we can agree on.” You said, shooting him a judgmental look.

“I’m really sorry.”

“You can apologize by never talking to me that way again.”

“I promise, I’m going to do better.”

Outside somewhere in the sky thunder rumbled far away, your voices fell to silence as rain beat the glass.

“Just to be clear, I’ve never fucked any of them and have no interest in ever doing so.” You snapped to him. He stayed quiet for a moment.

“I appreciate you telling me that.” He turned on his side to face you and placed his large hand over yours. “Listen. I should have brought this up before, but I want you to know that I have no intention of sleeping with anyone else. I want this to be…” He trailed off but you couldn’t look his way. “Exclusive, I guess.”

“I don’t want to be in a relationship with you.” Liar. Your heartbeat raced against your chest.

“That’s fine.” Was it? Is that what he wanted? “I just don’t want anyone else to touch you, not the way I do.”

You could feel his cum leaking out of you, soaking into your panties. He was making you blush and he knew it and it made you shiver against his mattress. With a huff you turned on your side, coming face to face with him.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” His lips parted and curled upwards. 

“This doesn’t mean you can kiss me.”

He was smiling at you, his hand moved to cup your cheek.

“And I’m still going to hang out with Jesse all the time. I’m still going to spar with Reyes. If I ever think you’re being an asshole about it, then this stops.”   

“That’s fair. Just please, don’t try to purposely make me jealous.” He was staring at your lips again, but his eyes shifted to meet yours.

“I won’t, but if I do something that does, just talk to me about it.”

“I will.” He looked so happy. “Thank you. Thank you, for coming back.”

So, so happy. You stomach clenched, you were unsure if it was an aftershock still rippling through your body, or because you were scared this made you happy too.  

You kissed the edge of his hand still resting on your cheek and watched him chew his lip.

“Can I make you breakfast?”

You opened your mouth to immediately say no, gut reaction telling you to get dressed and dart out of there as quickly as possible.

“I’d like that, I think.”

He raised his chin and kissed your forehead before grabbing your hands to help you climb out of his bed. Over his messed up blankets, and into his living room, you interlocked fingers with him as he guided you to the chair at his table you sat at last night.

When you sat in it, you curled your knees back up to your chest, hugging your legs and hiding your smile behind your thumb. The chair was cold against your exposed skin and through the thin shirt, but you sat still and watched as he brought you water again, as he dug through his cabinets for plates and pans.

So this is what it felt like to not be fighting all the time. It was new, unsettling, it made your pulse race and it made you smile until you hid your face in your knees.

“Skip practice in the morning on Monday.” He said as he pulled eggs from his fridge. “Meet me in the shooting range instead, I’ll teach you to focus your sights.”

“I hope you’ll be patient. Jesse thought he was going to kill me when he tried to help.”

“We can take all the time you need.”

For a moment you thought about where this version of Morrison came from, how different he seemed now.

Then it hit you like a ton of bricks. This _was_ how he treated you, in the beginning. Kind, and trying to reach out to you to support you. Sure, he was smug and self centered, but the fighting only started when you escalated it. When you started using every petty method you could to get back at him, to annoy him.

It almost hurt to swallow a gulp of water. You didn’t create the monster he was to you for the last year, but you definitely pushed him to a point where he fought back. Now standing in front of you, shirtless, clicking on a stove top, blond mess above a genuine smile you had to catch your breath.

Sizzling on a hot pan mixed with the muted sound of rain pelting against the side of the building. You brought yourself out of your thoughts, and asked him to tell you about working with Overwatch for so long. You had a light conversation as he cooked, relating your experience in boot camp to his with SEP. Reyes talked about SEP sometimes, but Morrison shared with you how grueling it was. How they spent hours and days and months getting pumped full of chemicals, not knowing the effects it would have on them. For once, you listened to him with full attention, listened to him tell a story that definitely could have ended long ago, but you hung on every word.

Both of your faces snapped to the door at the sound of knocking followed by the pitches of his key code being punched in and the door sliding open.

“Hey, Jack. Have you seen-”

You stood so fast you were surprised you didn’t knock the chair over in the process. Commander Reyes froze as he stared at you, looking so out of place and half naked in Morrison’s kitchen. You could feel the heat on your cheeks spreading all over your body. You looked to Morrison who seemed awfully casual about Reyes strolling in like this. You were starting to panic at the thought of the commander seeing you with wild hair, in a shirt that was essentially see through under the fluorescent lights, and no pants.

Reyes snapped his gaze up to the ceiling, avoiding any chance of eye contact.

“I see you two worked everything out.” He held his hands on his hips and cleared his throat. “Well now that I’ve found you, O'Deorain wants to meet you. She was hoping this afternoon, but I can her tell her you’re… busy.”

Morrison’s face twisted into a scowl.

“I still can’t believe you brought her into Blackwatch. She’s bad news, Gabe.”

“Why does she want to meet me?” You tried to interject.

“Said she saw you early this morning, wants to get to know you and make sure you’re doing okay.” His eyes shifted between you both. “She said you looked upset.”

“I suggest staying as far away from her as possible.” Morrison said leaning your way.

It struck you as a pretty nice thing to do, to want to reach out to someone and make sure they were okay. Surely she couldn’t be as unhinged as everyone makes her out to be.

“I should _at least_ introduce myself.” You said as you crossed your arms in front of you in a desperate attempt to hide your chest from Reyes.

“She’s setting up in the last lab of the Blackwatch Wing. I’ll let her know you’ll visit.” He said turning back to the door. “Cover up that damn hickey when you do.”

Morrison turned to look at your neck and let out a small laugh.

“Oops. Sorry.” No he wasn’t, you saw that stupid smirk.

“And check your phone more often!” He growled in frustration as he snapped the door shut.

You buried your face in your hands, mortified.

Jesse seeing your tits? Normal occurrence when you changed, whatever. Genji seeing your tits? It made him blush, you and Jesse would get a laugh out of it, whatever. Commander Reyes seeing your tits under Morrison's shirt, and an obvious wet spot on your panties? Oh god, you’ll never be able to recover. He’ll never look you in the eyes again. _You’ll_ never look him in the eyes again.

Morrison stood in front of you, moving your hair off your neck and checking the mark he left. He leaned forward, placing a kiss against it, then rubbed small circles into your shoulders.

“If it makes you feel better, he’s walked in on me naked before.”

“Oh my god, Morrison.” You groaned into your hands as he laughed.

He continued breakfast while you sat back in the chair and mumbled about how you were going to have to abandon Overwatch, change your name, and live life on the fringes of society so you’d never have to face him again.

You continued to blush while you ate. Legs folded in front of you, and eyes cast to the table. Morrison tried to distract you, he talked about the farm he grew up on. About the chickens they used to keep behind a barn, and how he missed having fresh eggs. He busied your mind with stories about chasing them, and how he named every single one (even when his father told him not to). He talked until you were no longer red in the face, and you put down your fork.   

“I’ve got nothing going on today, if you want to stay here.” His voice was hopeful as he cleared the table of the empty plates.

“I think I should leave.” You said, chewing on the end of your nail.

He stared back at you, letting the sink run behind him. He looked like he expected you to tack onto the sentence: It’s just sex, after all. We’re not dating, after all. You are my commander, after all.   

You’ve already stayed too long, given in too easy, were too weak to stop yourself. You thanked him for the offer but rushed to put your own clothes back on in his bedroom. Dishes clinked in the sink as you zipped your pants and hooked in your belt. In your pocket was your phone with dozens of unread messages, mostly from Commander Reyes. If you'd just look at the thing more often than you could have prevented the whole interaction. You groaned thinking about it and stuffed it back into the pocket. 

Dressed again, you were unsure what to do with his red shirt. You glanced out the window to the rain and the dark clouds, and you thought about sneaking it out with you. Starting a collection until you had a fresh one for every night of the week.

No, no that's something people who are dating do. That's something people who like each other, who plan anniversary dinners and buy flowers do. Instead you placed it on the edge of a hamper hidden to the side of his dresser.

Next to his door, you laced up your boots enough to make it back to your own room. Morrison waited patiently, leaned against his wall and watched. 

"Will I see you before Monday?" He rolled his head against the wall behind him. 

God you wanted to say yes, you wanted to say you'd come back and run into his arms and ask him how his day went.

"No." You chewed at your lip. Snapping up to look at him after you stuffed the excess length of your laces into the tops of your boots, you saw he was rubbing his fingers against the thumb you lovingly sucked on. He looked to the ground, seemingly not realizing he was touching it. 

You placed a hand against the door to slide it open, offering him a last glance. Your body felt like it was buzzing again, he looked like he wanted to say something but you weren't giving him a chance this time and you slipped out the door and down the hall.  

* * *

 

Back in your room, after a quick change and a long, long shower you pulled on your strike team sweatshirt and casual pants. You laid in your bed, watching the sky and thinking about what he would do if you went back up, thinking about how Reyes was going to treat you now. You should go find Jesse or Genji. Jesse so you can regale him about spending the night with Morrison, and Genji so you can get that damn apology he owes you. Half the day passed before you decided it would be better to get this introduction with Dr. O'Deorain out of the way now. Happy with comfortable with clean clothes you set out towards the Blackwatch wing. 

The Overwatch wings were fairly empty on the weekends, with agents choosing to visit the nearby city or spend time hanging out together in common rooms, something you were thankful for when you realized as you reached the lowest floor on the elevator that you hadn’t even tried to cover the small hickey on your throat and it was obvious in your mirrored reflection.

 

Her lab door was open, leading into a room in disarray. Boxes upon boxes, folders stuffed with papers spouting off number after number. She stood tall in the center of the room, sleeves of a black button up rolled to her elbows and stark white dress pants over her long legs. When she turned to face you, she had a smile that you couldn’t quite tell if it was forced or not. Her two different colored eyes set you back for only a moment before she pushed her hair out of her face.

“Good afternoon Dr. O'Deorain, I’m-”

“Please, no need for titles. Call me Moira.”

“Moira.” You repeated with some confusion. She moved through the room so incredibly gracefully that you almost forgot why you came. Was this really the person who was run out of Overwatch? She seemed so… studious. She looked kind, and she had a sparkle of something behind her eyes.

“The members of Blackwatch are quite fond of you. Your name has come up a lot in the last week, it’s nice to finally put a face to it.”

“You as well Doct- Moira.”

“I would have introduced myself this morning, but I don’t believe you saw me. You ran right by as I was heading into the lab.”

“Sorry about that" You shifted your weight and sucked your lip. "I had a weird night.”

“So it seems.” She gave your neck a knowing look and you pulled up the collar of your sweatshirt as blush crept up to your cheeks. She loosened the tie at her neck and slipped it over her head with a relieved sigh. “I hope you’re feeling alright now?”

“I am, thank you.”

She turned as he fingers unbuttoned down her shirt, going down one button too far, in your opinion.

“If you’d ever like to get a coffee or just talk, I am available to you.” You tried to avert your eyes to the equipment peaking through open boxes. “Blackwatch seems to be a boys club, and I’d like to have friends with matching…”

She’s so tall. Taller than Morrison, taller than Commander Reyes. You didn’t realize until she was in front of you that you needed to actually lift your head to look her in the eyes.  

“Intelligence.”

You laughed nervously. Oh god, was that a joke? You couldn’t read her, but she smiled back at you. This has been the absolute weirdest day you've had in a very long time and not at all how you thought it would when you opened your eyes this morning. 

“Come visit again when I’m all set up here, I’ll show you what I’m working on.” She carefully moved glass vials out of a box and onto a shelf. You backed up to the door.

“Sounds great, I guess I’ll catch you later. Good luck with-” You gestured all over the room with another nervous laugh. “You know, this.”

“So long.” She flashed you another grin before you stumbled back into the hall.

You wandered out, lost in thought you asked yourself if she was really the person so many nurses and agents abandoned and whispered about. You were so lost in thought you didn’t even notice when you almost run into Commander Reyes as you both rounded a corner. His eyes trailed from you to Moira's open lab door.    

“Oh, hey. How did it go with Dr. O'Deorain?” Reyes stared back at you with the same confusion you had plastered on your face, his cheeks tinted pink.  

“I really don’t know how to answer that.”

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay NOW, for real, updates may slow down a bit. I have a pretty hectic two weeks coming up so I won't have a lot of time to write, but I'll continue when I can!  
> (˵ ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°˵)ﾉ⌒♡*:･。.


	13. A Team Of Their Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is training to be ready for a combat mission! Things are looking up, even when Morrison gets sent away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long chapter, thanks for being so patient with me! <3  
> Also in case you don't follow me on Tumblr, I do have the next ~3 chapters already laid out so I am essentially just editing the next few and should have them up fairly quickly!

“Jesse-” You whispered into the darkened room, waiting until a groan replied from his bunk. “Can I come in?” It’s well past the time to go to turn in, but you couldn’t sleep.  

Genji's body shifted under the blankets in his bed on the other side of the room. As quietly as you could you shut the door behind you and heeled off your shoes before you crouched next to Jesse's face, if you squinted you could make out his features.

“Do you know how worried I was 'bout you after you disappeared last night?” He kept his voice low, trying not to wake Genji.

“I know, I saw your messages. Sorry.”  

“Get in here.” He lifted the blanket for you to crawl under and radiated warmth as he scooted back to give you room on his pillow.

“Morrison's going to give me shooting lessons on Monday.” You said settling yourself under the covers.

“Is that right? Let's hope the man can hold his temper with you long enough.” He cringed remembering the times he's spent on the practice range with you, time that frustrated him to a point where he'd rather just forget it happened. Your arms curled in front of you playing with the neckline of your pullover. He rested his hand against your bicep, a small comfort in the dark since you couldn’t see his face very well.  

“He said he's going to help me get better, Jesse. Not just my skills but… I don't know. My ability to handle things?”

“You sure he's not trying to make things worse? I still don't know how much I trust this whole thing, 'specially after the way he was actin’ yesterday.” He had a point, a good one. Morrison seemed to change almost overnight, and that left you uneasy. Questions swirled in your mind all day, wondering what the long con of this would be, why he would toy with your emotions like that. But you thought about his hands on your cheeks, and his smile when he asked to make you breakfast. 

“No, I think he was being genuine.”

“Well, just, play it safe y'know? Cause if he hurts you-”

“Jesse there’s something else.” He needed to know. There's no way you could hide from him that you were going to continue things with Morrison, or even if you could, there's no way that you would want to. 

“What?”

“He wants to keep seeing me, not dating, or anything. But, you know-”

“Are you out of your fuckin’ mind?” His grip tightened on your arm, shaking you lightly. “You slept with him _one time_ and suddenly now things are all honky dory? Not even a month ago, you and the man were at each others throats for every little thing!” He was yell whispering at you, trying to control his volume but struggling.

“Actually now it's been twice-”

“For fucks sake.”

“I know, Jesse. I'm willing to give it a chance? It sounds stupid, but this is the most normal I’ve felt in a long time.”

“This can only end ugly, you know that right?” He let out a heavy sigh and the breath pushed air onto your face, making your chest jump. 

“If it does, I’ll still have you guys, right?”

“Always, sunshine.”

You scooted towards him and buried your face against his chest, hugging him tight. With a whispered thank you, he ran his hand through your hair until your body relaxed, knowing you were getting close to falling asleep. He wasn’t going to let you off the hook that easy though, you woke him up so he was going to get back at you by keeping you up just a little longer.  

“At least tell me the man's got a big-”

“ _McCree.”_ Came Genji’s disgusted voice from across the room. You laughed, rolling to face Genji and out of Jesse’s hug. “I do agree with Jesse, though. Please, be careful with him.”

“Aww Genji, don’t tell me you’re getting a soft spot for me?” You ran your hand through your hair as you looked through the darkness towards him and the dimmed red light under his blankets. Across the room you heard a huff of disapproval.

As slowly as you could you slid out of Jesse’s bed, trying to stealthily make your way over to Genji to spook him.

“I can hear you walking.”

You snapped and sat at the edge of his bunk with a dramatic sigh nudging him.

“Hey, I’m still mad at you for pushing me. Are you ready to talk about it?”

He sat up, blankets falling from his chest and the red light shining into the room, illuminating your faces in the darkness.

This seemed to be how the heart to heart conversations always went with Blackwatch. At night, when you could hide your face, hide your feelings from the people you trusted.

“I... “He looked to his side, debating on clicking on his face mask. “Should not have hit you. You were not the one I was angry at.”

“Neither was that cadet.”

“Correct. I was mad at Commander Reyes. He… already talked to me about it. We came to an understanding.” Genji looked embarrassed, eyes cast down to his hands, his fingernail fiddling with the metal of his other. You heard Jesse moving, saw a vague outline of him sitting up against the wall in his bunk.

“They were havin’ a real loud argument in Gabe’s office for _hours._ You missed the whole thing.”

“Regardless. I think we are even, since you did snap that tube on my neck.”

“That’s fair.” You chuckled under your breath. “Are you doing okay though? Like really, truly, okay?”

“I’m working on it.” Hey, at least he was honest. “It is easier when I am surrounded by my friends.” It made your heart smile to hear him use the word friends, he so very rarely opened up about things like how he feels, or about his personal life, and when he did he always acted incredibly awkward afterwards.  

“You tryin’ to make a grown man cry?” Said Jesse, pretending to get choked up.

“Does this mean I can start sleeping in your bed too?” You joked with Genji, elbowing his legs.

“You’ve both ruined it, I will never call you my friends again.” He deadpanned, flopping back onto his mattress and bunching the blankets around him. “Goodnight.” 

“Love you too Genji.” You shook his foot with a little laugh as you stood again, heading back towards Jesse's bunk. 

“You sleepin’ here tonight or goin’ back to your own room?”  

“Here. Scoot.” You said, climbing back under his blankets.

Jesse laid on his back, letting his arms rest above his head. You turned until you were facing away from him on your side and happily hummed into the pillow before falling asleep.     

Sunday Jesse’s obnoxious snoring and Genji snapping open the blinds letting in the bright morning sun forced you to open your eyes with a glare. You blinked awake and rubbed your face, yawning as you threw the blankets off and swung your legs over the side of the bed.

“Do you really have to wake us up early on the weekends?”

Genji held his hands out to you, offering to help you stand. You let him pull you up, pushing out a dramatic groan the whole way up.

“He will sleep through anything.” Genji motioned to Jesse who was somehow already now sprawled across the mattress, mouth open making his snoring even worse.

“Let’s get breakfast, we can let sleeping beauty get his rest.”

Genji smiled back at you, snapping on the face plate but lifting the covers to the top of his head. His hair was growing back in quickly, once buzzed now already fuzzy black. You thought about running your hand over it, but thought it might be better to take extra caution still, just in case he still had any residual anger pent up. 

In the hall Commander Reyes was exiting his own room, pausing when he saw you both.

“Good morning commander.” You chirped, looking away from him, horrified as the memory of him seeing you with Morrison rushed back.

“Agents.” He nodded, still avoiding eye contact with you and a blush creeping onto his cheeks. He stood next to you as the elevator slowly made its way to the Blackwatch floor. You caught a glimpse of him nervously checking his phone in the reflective walls.

On the commissary floor you and Genji exited, turning to see Reyes shifting uncomfortably as he waited for the doors to close. You twisted your eyebrows at him in confusion, and you could swear you saw ash rising from his clothes as the doors shut in front of him. You shook your head, attributing the hallucination to your dreams thinking you must still be sleepier than you thought, then turned to follow Genji.

* * *

 

You woke with butterflies in your stomach on Monday morning long before your alarm went off. At this time of the morning you and Morrison were sure to be the only people in the practice range- very rarely does anyone want to start their day with gunfire. You took your time getting into your combat uniform, making sure your laces were done up correctly to standards, checking the tuck of your shirt and smoothing down your hair.

When you slipped into the halls you could hear the sounds of showers running, other captains in their rooms talking, the sounds of people waking up. It was still early enough that you had the elevator to yourself on the ride down, your eyes checking yourself over again in the mirrored walls. It was cool outside, jogging between the barracks and the practice range. Sunrise still peaking behind clouds, the base had a light layer of dew undisturbed. You got to the range before the doors to the building unlocked, and you pushed out an impatient sigh. You leaned against the concrete siding, the chill of the wall making your skin jump as your back laid against it and you pulled out your phone.

You busied yourself with deleting emails and messages that had nothing to do with you, swiped through the heaps of denied requests for field missions, the strike team group messages. Normally you would have spent this time responding to emails Morrison sent out, taking the chance to remind everyone what a shitty guy you thought he was, killing conversations as soon as you started them. Your phone dinged with a new message.

_Jesse McCree [05:49:35]_ Hey have you ever noticed Genjis basically naked all the time???

_Jesse McCree [05:49:41]_   Anyways good luck with shooting today!        

You laughed out loud to yourself knowing that was definitely the first thought he had when he woke up, and that you expected nothing less from Jesse. For once, you started typing out a reply.

“You look like you’re in a good mood.” Morrison was walking towards you with a smirk on his face.

“Don’t ruin it, Morrison.” You warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He held his badge to the door, with a loud click the door unlocked and lights inside started flickering on. He held it open for you, letting you enter first and start walking towards the gun lockup. As he closed the door behind him, he turned and gently landed his hand on your shoulder blades.

“Your back is freezing. How long were you waiting for me?”

“A couple minutes maybe?” The sun was above the clouds now, it was definitely more than a couple minutes. He ran his hand to the base of your neck, wrapping his fingers loosely around and stopping you. Arms crossed in front of you trying to warm yourself up, he brought you against him into a tight hug, pressing his chest to your back.

“No fighting, okay? I just need you to listen to me, I’m only trying to help.”

“I know.” You reached up and grabbed his forearm, squeezing. You felt a small kiss on the top of your head as his arms tensed around you before letting you go.

“Alright, let’s get to business.”

He was serious. The way he was making you shoot, he expected precision, absolute perfection. Today was close stationary targets, just to see where your skills were at. Testing the rifles and a pistol, he even had you try throwing knives just to see if you were more accurate with those. With the guns he was strict. Check. Load. Aim. Trigger. Safety. Down. One bullet at a time. Even though the target was close, you still managed to miss tremendously, but he wasn’t getting frustrated like Jesse did with you, wasn’t berating you like he would have before. He coached you through your aim, placed a hand on your lower back as a reminder to relax, told you when to breathe. On the last bullet, the final time you put the safety back on and set the gun down you turned to him.

"I need to set some ground rules with you Morrison." You pushed out a shaky breath, the sound of gunfire ringing in your ears.

Take it slow. Keep him at arms distance, be careful. Getting distracted, especially here, would only lead to more problems. His gentle caresses, careful hands guiding you but lingering enough to remind you of the way his hands wandered over your body, it made you unfocused.    

"I'm listening." He took the gun and loaded it back into the secure case for you, as you paced the floor thinking. 

"One, don't kiss me."

"I already understood that one." 

"Shh." You shot him a disapproving look. "Two, absolutely no sex outside of your room. I think I'll die of embarrassment if anyone ever sees you leaving mine." 

"Understood, ma'am." 

"Ugh, three don't call me _ma'am."_

"Sorry." He laughed. 

"Four, don't get handsy with me, even if we're alone. During the work week this is strictly professional." 

"And on the weekends?" He stood over you, with that stupid, stupid, smirk.  

"On the weekends, if I come over you can do what you want. Call me dirty names, pull my hair, make me call you by your title, whatever. Just know whatever we do, it has no effect on our jobs. I don't ever need you to give me special privileges just because you can stick your dick in me." 

His face was blushing, burning from his cheeks to his ear and biting back his smile.

"I only have the one rule." He finally said, locking up the weapons in the gun hold. 

"Which is?" 

"Just don't have sex with anyone else. Gabe says you sleep on his couch sometimes or in the same bed as Agent McCree occasionally which makes me, well, jealous. But I understand you go to them for a comfort you don't want to come to me for, and I respect that." He was rambling, chewing on his cheek. You placed a hand on his arm and waited until his eyes met yours. 

"Thank you, Morrison." His hand curled over yours, fingers intertwining with gentle squeezes before he gently brought your hand off him. 

"Now, we need to get to it. These next moths are going to be a lot of work, are you willing to put in the effort?" 

"I am. What would you like me to do?" 

He was going to make sure you were treated like a proper agent. No more floating around the base picking up whatever job you could. You would be training every day until you could prove yourself, until you reminded him of the girl who he choose from the cadet academy who worked her ass off to become top of her class.

Today was the easy stuff, he reminded you. Monday and Friday, every week, he expected you here at the same time. He was going to make it harder each time, put the target a little further, use ones that move. He’d eventually have you shoot glass, and when he suggested that you stomach churned, but you told yourself the only way to get better was to face it, to prepare for it. Any mornings you weren't with him he "allowed" (you would do it with, or without his permission) you to continue attending Blackwatch sparring sessions. 

For your afternoons he wanted you to split your time between three things. The most important one to start shadowing Captain Amari, sit through her meetings, study how she handles orders and interpersonal conflicts. He talked so highly of Captain Amari, it was clear she wasn't just an inspiration to his work ethic, but also a dear friend to him. Second item, he wanted you to start hosting classes for the cadets interested in coding and hacking, your specialty. You kept up on your skills on base as one of the fastest and most accurate hackers they currently had, even he had to admit that, but Overwatch needed more people like you. You did scoff at the idea of leading a session like that, but he told you that you'd warm up to it after you spent some time with Amari. Finally, the last thing he wanted you to do seemed to have a much more personal undertone. He didn't trust Dr. O'Deorain, he didn't trust her being back on Overwatch grounds. You don't think this was sanctioned by Overwatch, but he asked you to snoop in her lab, get to know her work, befriend her if you had to. 

Other than work, all you had to do was keep your head down, and you would be able to be on combat missions instead of recon and undercover, finally able to start operating as a full agent again. 

* * *

Captain Amari kept you exhausted, she forced you to do every work out, every drill, every test with her team to make sure you were taking it seriously. On mornings you weren’t with Morrison, you continued your sparring sessions with Blackwatch. Even though the divide between you and the Overwatch agents seemed to lessen now that you weren't snapping at everyone who gave you a dirty look, it was still uncomfortable to be around them and you’d rather be with your family than deal with the wandering stares of the strike team members.

Every Monday and Friday morning you met Morrison early at the practice range. Your aim started improving, response time to targets quicker. Every now and then you’d look back to him, watching his face as the target was brought closer for inspection and you’d see him holding back a proud smile. Sometimes, you’d fight over little things, but it was never to the scale it used to be. You go back and forth with him about hitting the same targets bulls eye over and over again, but still he would make you continue to shoot it until it became muscle memory.  

"Again." He would say, and you would groan and complain.

"Again." He would say, and you would want to bash your head against the wall. 

"Again." He would demand and you would feel like kicking him in the shins.  

You started spending your afternoons helping with the cadets who were learning how to code and hack. You begrudgingly drug yourself to the classes, but found after you saw the delight on the cadets faces of how happy they looked when they finally got through something, it would make you smile for the rest of the day. It was giving you a purpose. Purpose that was previously filled by this driving fire in you to ruin Morrison’s life. It felt weird. And scary. And it made you giddy, it made you want to cry or laugh or scream. You didn’t realize it at the time, but it felt like you were blossoming.

Meetings with the strike teams that involved you and Morrison slowly seemed to have a change too. Instead of interjecting your opinion, you looked down to the table and tightened your lips. The urge to announce how poor of a job he was doing diminishing with each meeting, each passing day you spent on the range with him, or with Reyes forcing you to run laps, or with Amari barking orders in your ear. With every helpful thing they did, it became easier to follow his word, to work alongside your teammates. Things felt like they were shifting back to the shiny Overwatch you thought you'd signed into originally.

During meetings in boring lulls where others would be speaking, Morrison would turn his eyes to you. Icy stares with a smirk across his face that would make you blush and have to turn away hoping no one else noticed. Sometimes the way he looked at you made you want him to take you right there, in front of everybody. Made you want him to push you against the wall and shove his hand down the front of your pants. 

Limit yourself, control yourself. That's what you had to remind yourself every time his hand wandered just a little too close to your belt loops in passing, that's what you had to remind yourself when you started going to his room every Friday. That's what you had to remind yourself when he home cooked meals for you and talked about the farm, and his late parents, and his best friend from elementary school, and SEP, and everything in between. Usually you would just let him ramble and watch how his body moved, reminding yourself that there was nothing more to this than weekly dinners that turned into him grinding you against his bed and you moaning out his title he loved to hear so much.  

If you slept there in his bed you’d roll over, face away from him and drift to sleep afterwards. Sometimes, just before your mind shut off you’d feel his fingers running softly through your hair. Whispered apologies about what he’s done to you, pained thank yous for giving him a chance.

"You deserve so much better than this." A small voice would say into the pillow.  

"I'm so sorry for the pain I've caused you." His lips would whisper against your scars. 

You never told him you heard him. Partially, you think because you still needed to hear it, that it was a small comfort before you slept. On the nights when you fell asleep next to him you stopped having the nightmares about the explosion, about smoke and fire and glass. You would close your eyes and not dream at all, opening them to sun shining through the cracks of his blinds into his bedroom.  

Things became routine. 

Shooting with Morrison. Shadowing Amari. Teaching the classes. Dinner with Morrison. It took months before you built up the courage to start Morrison's other task, to work with Moira. 

You found that she was surprisingly easy to be around, once you started visiting her often. She seemed to be very open about the research she was doing, the experiments she was working on, even going so far as to offer you the opportunity to be her newest test subject (which you politely declined). She was hard to get a grasp of though, rarely talking about her personal life, smiles that hid secrets behind them, locked cabinets with motion sensors on them. You tried to play into the part of being her friend, doing what Morrison wanted and gaining her trust, but you never quite knew where you stood with her.

On days when you weren’t spending your afternoons in the classroom, you found you enjoyed the quiet of her lab, enjoyed helping her with small noninvasive experiments. She was a breath of air from the strained regiment of Overwatch that Captain Amari and the classes kept you to on other days. 

“What is all this?” You asked her late one evening as she was pulling reports from high shelves. 

“I’m isolating the norepinephrine-dopamine reuptake inhibitors of a serum Overwatch obtained from the U.S. military.”

“Umm-” What in the fuck did she just say? 

“I’m testing serotonin inhibitors.”

“Cool.” You nodded your head, playing along like you understood. You saw her smile before she stepped down and turned to the computer.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been in a more chipper mood recently.” She said as she scrolled down the screen in front of her.

"Yeah, I... I guess I have been." 

"Would this be due to a certain commander?" 

You fumbled, almost dropping the glass beakers you were holding. 

"Oh-" You started laughing nervously. There was no way she could know about that. "No, I'm umm..." Moira made you nervous, and you didn't know why. Something about her demeanor or her quick wit, it always put you on edge. "It's being on a real team. It's just, been a while since I've been working with people regularly. Other than Blackwatch, of course." 

"Hmm." She knowing glanced over her shoulder at you. God, why did Morrison want you here again? You certainly weren't going to be able to explain she was isotoping the non respondents or whatever nonsense she just told you. She could make you feel awkward in a way no one else could, even Commander Reyes was able to treat you normally again after literal months of avoiding eye contact or being alone with you stemming from the incident where he found you in Morrison's room.

But you soldiered on continuing to grow a friendship, you think, with Moira.   

* * *

 

Three months into the new routine Morrison was temporarily assigned at the Grand Mesa watch point. He told you as he made you dinner on a Friday night. Your stomach flipped, a strange feeling washing over you at the thought of your routine being broken, of being away from Morrison for more than a few days. He was leaving so soon, you wished you had more time with him, but you only had the weekend before he'd be on a plane across the globe. 

“Just until the new teams are functioning.” 

“Do you know how long?” You asked when you twirled linguine on your fork.

“At least a few weeks.” His fingers played with yours against the table, eyes staring down at them. “But it could be months.”

“Oh." You said to your pasta. Months? Suddenly you weren't hungry. You tried to ask yourself why you cared, you knew you shouldn't. It was getting harder to deny the thoughts in the back of your mind telling you what you really felt. It scared you that you wanted him to stay. That you hadn't proved to him yet that things were different, better.   

“Please, answer your phone when I’m gone. I don’t want months to go by before I hear from you.”

“I don't know, I'm going to be pretty busy.” You slumped against the chair, biting your lip and looking away only half joking. 

“At least message me back, even just something short?” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms with a smirk. “Or a picture?”  

“Yeah, I don't know Morrison. I'll have a lot going on.”

“Don't make me beg.”

Now _that_ sounded like a good idea.

“I want you to beg.” You breathed out. You saw something in his eyes change, a sparkle behind them that wasn't there moments ago. He practically fell out of his chair and onto his knees at the floor, completely forgetting about dinner. You shifted to sit sideways in the chair and he stopped directly in front of you.

He placed his hands on both of your knees, grabbing and curling his fingers into your pants kissing anything his face could reach. Before he spoke you held his chin, lifting his face up to you.

“You look good on your knees, _commander."_ You enjoyed the desperate pant from his lips. The shudder of his chest, and the visceral effect just saying his title had on him.  

“I’d look better between your legs.” Oh, that smile was dangerous.

“I’m pretty sure I told you to beg, not flirt.”

“I like it when you're bossy.” He kissed your kneecap then looked up again, forcing his expression to be softer. “Please, talk to me when I'm away.” He moved his face to kiss your wrist, and you ran your hands through his hair. “Without your voice I'll go insane, I need to hear from you. Need you to tell me how your day went, need to know what kind of trouble Gabe gets you in. I’ll be ending my day as yours is starting, I can call you in the mornings and you can tell me about the dreams you had.”

His hand wandered up your legs, pushing the ends of his palms into your thigh as he slid up until he was grabbing you by the hips.

“Please, I’ll be a mess without you.” His wide body pushed your legs apart and he hugged you close, almost to the point where you were falling off your chair. “I’ll do anything, as long as I get to hear you talk to me.” He buried his face against your chest, fingers digging into your back as you tugged at his hair. 

"Well, since you're being so sweet." You cooed.  

“Wait. There’s one thing we need to do before I leave.” He mumbled above your heart. 

“And what’s that?” 

“You’re not going to like it.” His face was suddenly serious as he looked up at you, he turned to kiss your knuckles. “Do you trust me?” He stood, taking your hand and helping you to your feet.

"I don't want to." You chewed your lip. He smoothed the hair on the top of your head and followed his lead to the door, to put on your shoes, down the hall and out of the barracks.

He walked you to the practice range, unlocking the doors with a loud click. Before getting into the building, he bent down, grabbing a rock from outside and bringing it in with you. You looked to him with worry.

You'd practiced with so many targets, perfected your shots from close and mid ranges with pistols and rifles, moving and stationary. But there was one thing he hadn't convinced you to do yet. He wanted you to shoot glass, to shatter it. Your chest tightened, and your heart pounded in your throat.

"I can't do this, Morrison. Not yet, I'm not ready."

"I think you are, we've been working up to this for months. You're stronger than you think." 

"I'm scared."

"If anything happens, I'm right here." He wrapped you into a hug, pulling you into his chest and running his fingers through your hair. Hovering bots brought a large plane of glass down the shooting range. When he drew back from you, he cupped the rock into your hands and moved out of the way to give you sight of the glass. "When you're ready." 

You stared down the range, palms sweating against the stone. Your eyes flickered with worry between him and the glass. How long could you stand here and avoid this? Even just anticipating the noise was making you have heart palpitations. Fuck, you couldn't do this. You couldn't hear that sound. It's too loud. It's too much. Morrison stood behind you, leaning down to rest his chin against your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your midsection and holding you close to him. You held the rock to your heart feeling the beats against your skin. His lips pressed against the side of your neck following veins, whispering to take your time, to take deep breaths.

It's just glass. It can't hurt you. You're safe.

Fuck. Okay.

You shrugged him off you and chucked the rock as hard as you could at the glass. 

And completely missed. 

You stared down the range, dumbfounded that you managed to aim so poorly. To be fair, your palms were sweating and the rock slipped right out of your hand. You turned to him and ran your hand over your forehead, laughing at the sheer stupidity of it. It's just glass and it was making you sweat hard against the pits of your shirt. God, you felt so stupid. This was ridiculous. Morrison chuckled with you, relieved to see you weren't breaking down at the missed shot. He told to wait a moment, cupping your cheeks and smiling before he went into the practice range and grabbed the rock for you. 

With a deep breath you took it from his hands and didn't give yourself the opportunity to hesitate. Before he could give you any encouraging words you swung your shoulder and threw it straight through the middle of the glass.

The sound was exactly how you remember it. Piercing, sending your mind racing a thousand miles a minute. You thought your screamed, but no noise came out of your throat. Morrison held your arms, waiting for you to crumple into a ball, waiting for you to panic and try to run. Your breathing quickened, heart beat in your ears but you felt surprisingly okay. Anxiety buzzed against the soles of your feet, but you didn't feel the need to take off running until you could no longer see where you were. Instead you stared as the broken pieces resting in silence against the ground with a gaping mouth and shaking hands and Morrison squeezed your arms and said something about being proud of you. His voice was muffled, he rocked you back and forth in his arms in a hug and when you smiled with waves of comfort washing over you, you leaned against him and closed your eyes, almost on the verge of happy tears. 

You knew this was just the beginning. One pane was not the end all be all, you'd have to do this again and again until it no longer spiked fear in your heart. You needed to make sure if you heard the sound out in the field you wouldn't lose focus, lose your sense of surroundings. If you had told yourself this time last year Morrison would be holding you like this, encouraging you through difficult tasks, you would have spit in your own face. Something about this lifted a weight off your chest, opened you to the long road of recovery you didn't realize you were already on. 

You turned and hugged him tight, pressing your face into his collarbone. He lifted you off the ground holding you against him with his strength. 

"I'm going to miss you." 

"I'm going to miss you, too."             

* * *

You had hoped it would only be weeks, but two months later you were starting to lose steam. Captain Amari was working you to the bone. You barely had time to even see your Blackwatch family, she convinced Reyes not to take you on any Blackwatch missions. You were dying to get off the base, practically whining to her every day for weeks upon weeks that you were ready.

At first Morrison only called every few days, you'd spend so long talking to him in the mornings you accidentally miss sparring practice and have a worried Jesse knocking at your door later in the day wondering why you never showed up. He'd tell you about the cadets on the Grand Mesa base, how they acted and the drama they had among themselves. He told you how pretty the mountains were, and what the sunsets looked like. You started waking up before your phone rang, laying in your bed as the sun rose and anticipating his call. it didn't take long until you were talking to him almost every day. Sometimes after you hung up you had to remind yourself, this wasn't a relationship. Jesse would have to stop you midsentence and ask if you were sure it wasn't, Commander Reyes would silently judge you across the table during lunch hours listening in on your updates from Morrison.      

Captain Amari called you to a meeting room late in the afternoon one day, you thought because you snapped at one of the cadets in your training class for catching them messing around on the internet (you may have been a little too harsh with them), but instead when you entered a small group of women sat at the meeting table. You listened carefully as she explained the sudden meeting. 

“An escort mission.” Captain Amari started. “To the ecopoint in the Atlantic. We’ll be accompanying researchers, scientists and divers to the ocean base. Current protests of Overwatch’s research methods into the deep ocean life mean we expect resistance at the refueling stations. At this time there is no information on immediate dangers, but Overwatch would like to take extra precaution to ensure the science teams safety.”

“An escort mission that takes five of us?” You asked furrowing your eyebrows at the captain.

“I requested to tag along.” Moira said leaning towards you. “There are some interesting breakthroughs they’re on the cusp of and I’d like an opportunity to pick their brains.”

“I was the only pilot willing to make that long of a flight.” Shrugged Fio, the red haired pilot for Blackwatch who you’d almost exclusively seen in passing or on the other side of the room during morning training sessions.

“Thank you, ladies, but let’s focus on those details another time, we need to discuss our standard operating procedures.”

“Sorry, captain.” You nodded, embarrassed.

Amari was there to lead the team, Fio to fly them, Overwatch agent Mirembe to block the scientists from the public, you to watch the crowds for any dangers, and Moira, well Moira clearly had her own plans. As a captain, Amari was detail oriented, asking follow up questions on every item to ensure everyone understood exactly what they were doing, where they were going to be, what dangers you may face, who the scientists were, everything. You’d be leaving bright and early Monday and you couldn't even try to hide your happiness.

After the meeting went way too long with you asking far too many questions, the group emerged to angry faces of other Overwatch agents who were waiting outside the door for you to clear the room and to start their own meeting. You sheepishly apologized and half jogged to your room, heart racing and biting your lip, so excited to tell the Blackwatch boys, and to tell Morrison.

Morrison would be sleeping on the Colorado base eight hours behind you, but all you wanted to do was call him to let him know that Amari finally trusted you. Not only enough to go on a combat classified mission with her, but to be on a mission that required close quarters with each other for days. Both sides equally important seeing as this was the first time since the explosion that anyone who wasn't either in Blackwatch or contractually obligated to deal with you admitted they trusted you. 

When you rushed into your room and laid in bed and bounced your leg as you bit back a smile for over an hour. You messaged Jesse, and Genji, and Reyes, with no response. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You knew it’d be early morning, but you had to tell him. You wanted to hear his voice and his praise.

You held your breath as the line trilled, chewed on your nails as it continued to a point where you didn’t think he’d pick up.

“Strike Commander Morrison speaking.” You heard him try to clear the sleep out of his voice.

“Hey golden boy.”

“Mmmm.” He hummed into the phone in relief, then sighed out your name. “It’s late, is everything alright?”

“It’s better than alright.”

“Oh?”

“Morrison, Captain Amari is taking me on a mission. To the Atlantic ecopoint. I’m going to be back in the field on a _combat mission.”_

“That’s great-” His throat caught, voice cracking. “I… I’m sorry it couldn’t have been under my command. I was hoping your first one back would be.”

“It might be better that it’s not.”

Your conversation paused with the weight of your comment sinking into his tired brain.

“I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long.” You heard him shift around in his bed. “I think we’re wrapping things up, should be done within the next week or so.”

“I hope so.” You chewed at you nail, nervous to say anything else that might hurt him. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“Captain Amari thinks we’ll be back by next Saturday, do you think you’ll be on your way by then?”

“Well, I think I'm actually going to visit home while I'm here.” His voice was hesitant.

“Home?”

“Bloomington. Where my folks lived, I still own the old farmhouse.”

“Oh. How long-”

“You should come.”

“...To Indiana?”

“After the mission, of course. Those drop ships have to refuel in America before they head back. You could hop on a flight and stay out there with me for a bit.” His tone was lowered, you could hear the smile in his voice. “I know you have the vacation time.”

“Would you really want me to come out there?” You leaned against the wall and stretched your toes.

“I do. I want to show you my life outside of Overwatch.”

You tried to mull over the options. What if you got there, and he said something stupid and you just fought with him the whole time? What if you hated the dirt and smell of the farm, or the sight of Morrison in jeans? It scared you that he was so comfortable asking you to visit his childhood home, this was becoming next to impossible to deny it was still just sex.

“If you don’t want to come, I understand. I know we’re not together. It’s a lot to ask of someone to travel across the globe for a platonic vacation to a farm in the bible belt.”

Fuck, you needed to give him an answer. Why were you so scared to be alone with him when the best part of your day for the last two months was his calls in the morning?

“Morrison?” Your voice was wavering.

“Don’t be nervous. I won’t be upset if you say no.”

“It's just… My commander is pretty strict, I don’t know if he’ll approve the time off so suddenly.” You joked then held your breath as you curled your knees against you. You could hear him catching happy gasps before he spoke.

“I can give the guy a good talking to.” He laughed out. “Are you being serious, you’re really going to come visit?”

“Yeah. It sounds nice, I think.”

“You’ll love it there.” He hummed into the phone. “I’ll send you the address and details so you can coordinate with Amari. Thank you. I’m really excited to see you.”

“Me too, Morrison.”

You smiled into the phone, reflexes to hide your blushing face. You imagined he was smiling too, probably doing that thing he does where he covers his eyes with the back of his hand and grins at the ceiling.

“So, did I just hear you finally admit that I’m _your_ commander?” He teased.

“Only when I need paperwork done.” Your voice was breathy.

“Or when you’re begging me to-”

"Not another word!" You scolded into the phone. You could hear the need in his voice, the way his breathing shuddered against the receiver. You tried to imagine what he was doing right now, imagine his muscles rolling against his arm shoved beneath the waistband of those damn gray sweatpants of his.

“I wish you were here with me right now.”

“We’ll see each other soon.”

“Wish you were here in my lap-”

“Morrison!” You gasped.

“Want you to scream out my name, to beg for me to let you finish again-”

“Shouldn't you be sleeping-”

“God, I wish you were here waiting in my bed every morning-”

You did too. You were tired of waking up in your bed alone, tired of waking up to Jesse's morning breath when you snuck into his bunk late at night when you were feeling extra lonely. You didn't want to be alone anymore. His breath was picking up on the other end of the phone. The way he groaned out your name, it sent heat straight to your core. 

Fuck. Were you really going to go through with this, spending time alone with him in a place that clearly has so much sentimental value? You ran your fingers over the scars on your arm, sick guilt twisting around your stomach.

This man was going to be the death of you. 

              

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one has a way quicker pace than normal. Now that a lot of the important story stuff is out of the way and we can really get into the Meat and Potatoes of this story though.  
> Strap in, cause it's about to be a BUMPY ride. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	14. I Love You, But

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the combat mission is here, then off to the farm for some quality time with the golden boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I'm so sorry I get so carried away with writing. This is over 11k words and like ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The night before you were left for the ecopoint mission you got an urgent message from Jesse telling you to come to the Blackwatch commons as soon as possible, that something happened and they needed you there immediately. Panic shot through your body, you sprinted from your room without even putting on your shoes, the back of your neck breaking out in a cold sweat. Down the stairs you huffed, sliding across the linoleum as you reached their floor. Your mind raced with all the reasons he would need you there right away.

You feared that maybe something happened with Genji and he snapped again, or maybe Jesse and Reyes got into a fight. You slid open the door with a hard smack, expecting the worst. Reyes stood in the center of the room and twisted his torso to look at you. Genji and Jesse were stuffing their faces next to an open pizza box and raised their eyebrows when you entered so dramatically.

“What happened?” Clearly out breath, you held the door frame.

“We just wanted to wish you good luck on the mission darlin’.” Jesse said before biting into the slice in his hand.

“Jesse. McCree!!” You stormed towards him and smacked him hard in the chest. “You scared the shit out of me! I thought someone was hurt!”

“I told him that message was too much.” Reyes shrugged as he plopped down on the couch.

You looked towards him and realized he looked exhausted, his eyes sporting vivid red veins with dark bags beneath them, dulled irises. His beanie was off and he needed a haircut, his curly locks were loose and starting to grease from a long day. As Genji and Jesse laughed among themselves you sat next to him tucking your legs beneath you, springing some of his curls on his head.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” He sarcastically replied.

You were happy things were back to semi-normal with him. It was months that he refused to spar with you in morning training, months of him leaving rooms if you entered them, months of not receiving messages or mission requests. It took so long for either of you to just sit down and look each other in the eye, that it was only weeks ago you snapped open his office door and announced you were done having things be awkward. With a sigh of relief, he brought you into a hug and you both apologized for acting weird for so long, and came to the understanding that neither of you would ever bring it up or think about it again.

“Anything you want to talk about?” You tried to pry.

“Not particularly.” He crossed his arms, clearly in a grumpy mood and shifted in his seat, turning to face you. “Be careful out there, let us know when you get to the base.”

“I will, you worry wart.”

“Let us know when you get to the farm too. And that you and Jack aren’t fighting when you’re there, and when you’re leaving to come back.” He paused, eyebrows furrowing for a moment. “In fact, just check in with us every day.”

“That’s not much of a vacation.” You laughed.

“I wouldn’t consider that farm a vacation, the whole town stinks like manure.”

“You’ve been there?” Morrison never told you that.

“Right after SEP. I helped him clean out the house after his parents died.”

“Oh.” That’s why he never mentioned it. You knew his parents died sometime during the omnic crisis, but you didn’t realize it was when he was so young. If you had your math right, he was only in his early twenty's when they got out of SEP. 

“I told him to sell it once we got recruited into Overwatch, but he insists on keeping the damn place, he thinks he’s going to retire there some day. He’s still just a dumb kid. Goes all the world and in the end wants to just settle right back where he started.” Reyes sounded way more bitter than usual, lip curling in disgust at the thought of Morrison having a life plan that involved going back to his roots.

“I think you’re being a little harsh-”

“It’s a dump, surrounded by hicks.”

Jesse walked behind him with a hard pat on Reyes’s shoulder and a look on his face that told him to shut up.

“Pardon him, he’s been in a mood recently. You’ll have to tell us all ‘bout it when you get back.”

“I will, Jesse.”

You all squeezed onto the couch together and Jesse flicked through channels until he found something worth stopping on. You ate pizza and you laid your legs across Genji’s lap as you made them tell you about their recent recon mission that devolved into Genji fighting off "thirty armed guards at once" (Reyes mouthed to you that it was closer to ten, still impressive though). You listened with a smile on your face, leaning against the backrest, taking in a night of pure happiness with your weird little family.

Before you left you forced them all into a group hug, Genji and Reyes begrudgingly agreeing to join you and you squeezed them tight. After the hug broke and you were parting in the hall, you clung onto Jesse in an extra tight hug, he offered the advice of not pissing off Captain Amari while she was working and you nodded then kissed his cheek as you said goodbye. He wiped it away and stuck his tongue out at you as he and Genji turned to head to their room for the night.                   

As you waited for the elevator Reyes caught up to you, offering to walk you to your room which you accepted with a smile, hoping this meant he was going to tell you why he looked so awful.

“Are you sure you’re ready to be back in the field?” He asked, standing next to you in the mirrored elevator.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You turned to look at him next to you. The elevator chimed softly to your floor and you stepped out with him following closely behind. “Something seems different with you Reyes, are you sure there’s nothing you want to talk about?”

His tired eyes stared back you, sockets looking like they were much more sunken than usual. He grabbed his shoulder, grinding his fingers down against the muscle, massaging as if it was sore.

“I’m just not getting enough sleep.” He grunted as you got to your door. You moved your body blocking his view of your keypad, trying not to show him you changed your code earlier that morning. You didn’t mind that the Blackwatch boys knew your code (after all, it used to just be the default 1-2-3-4, it's not like it was hard to guess), but you didn’t want them snooping around your room while you were away.

“It’s more than that Reyes, I can tell when you’re lying to me.”

“Don’t push it.” His voice was low, rumbling deep in his chest. You turned to him as you stepped through the doorway.

“I’m worried about you.” You locking eyes with him, eyebrows turned in a silent plea.

“I’m fine.”

Sure. You could see the veins against his skin, but yeah, he was fine. His fingernails were cracking but, yeah, fine. Maybe you would check in everyday you were gone, just to make sure _he_ was okay. You stared at him, waiting for him to break and actually tell you what was wrong, but he didn’t.

“Thanks. For walking me to my room.” You enunciated your words, trying to cut into him to get a reaction.

“Be safe over there.” He looked to the floor. “We’ll be waiting to hear from you.” He cracked his knuckles in front of him then turned and walked towards the elevators. You leaned out of your door frame, wishing you had the guts to yell at him to turn around and just fucking talk to you, but you stayed silent and slowly slid your door shut before climbing into your bed.

* * *

 

In the morning you threw your bag over your shoulder, packed only with your combat clothes, Morrison's SEP shirt with pajama shorts, and one casual outfit consisting of a tank top, your strike team pullover, and black legging pants. You double checked that you had your charger and your phone packed away, along with a small notebook in case you needed to make any field notes.

As you entered the airfield where the drop ship was warming up you noticed two figures close to each other as you approached. Upon realizing who they were you quickly stepped behind a wall hoping to avoid any more awkward run ins. You looked down to your shoelaces as you heard the sounds of whispered goodbyes and small kisses, until the sound of heavy footsteps darted past you. The man turned his head as he realized he was walking by someone, blush spreading across his face.

“Captain.” Wilhelm said to you with a nod, his long blond hair was pulled into a ponytail in the back of his head, floating down his back and still wet from a recent shower.

“Lieutenant.” You nodded back as you rounded the corner and fast walked to the drop ship. Captain Amari waited at the ramp running over a checklist on her phone, from what you could tell you were the only one to show up so far.

“Good morning.” She smiled at you, you'd never seen her blush before but she held her fingers to her cheeks in a lame attempt to hide it.

“Good morning, Captain Amari.” You smiled back.

This was a larger drop ship than you were used to. The ship itself was split into three areas, the pilots area on the top at the front, weapon storage in the top back. The center was a large common room area with tables sautered down to the floor so they wouldn’t move or shift during the flight sitting in front of large booths, and a small kitchen area. A narrow set of stairs led down to rows of small rooms with pairs of bunks and a small closet in each. You walked all the way to the end, taking the top bunk of the room in the far back. While you waited on the rest of the team you triple checked all the weapons in the hold, checked the bullets and projectiles and the non lethal weapons ensuring everything was secured and up to code.

To your surprise when you went back down to the bunks Moira had set her things in the one below you.

“Are you sure you want to be my roommate for the trip?” You leaned against the thin door frame looking in at her.

“The other agents do not particularly…” She was trying to choose her words carefully. “Prefer my company.” Right. She did publish a medical journal article indicating she wanted to do human experimentation on them, their judgement was more than fair.

If anyone asked, you’d tell them you avoided her, but if you were being honest with yourself, her cold demeanor and dry humor was actually starting to mesh well with you. She scared the absolute shit out of you, but you didn’t mind her and in fact, could now hold a pretty decent conversation if you asked her enough questions about what she was working on.

As soon as everyone was on board, the ship lifted and zoomed towards the pick up location to gather the scientists from a spot off the coast of Portugal. You laid in your bunk thumbing through and deleting emails on your phone while Moira searched through packets of paper and scribbled something on a notepad beneath you. The drop ship would be there to pick up the scientists in about three hours, then it was another six hours to the Atlantic base. From there, your team would stay for a few days to ensure the safety of those you’re dropping off. Checking on equipment, tracking of any followers to the base, and ensuring their line of communication stays open in the case of an emergency. After that it would be a quick zip to America to refuel, and you would say a goodbye to your team then hop on a commercial flight to Indiana to finally see Morrison again.

Bored of looking through endless emails you switched to your photos. Mostly just pictures of cool sunsets and of Jesse and Genji being idiots, you realized you didn’t have any pictures of Morrison. You made a mental note to yourself to get one while you were on the trip, so you could at least assign a picture to his contact when he called.

Classified as an escort mission you were prepared for the worst. Captain Amari indicated the threats made to the researchers were serious, that they threatened of planting bombs and shooting at them when they boarded the ship and topped off the fuel. Before you landed on site, you and the team suited up with the protective armor taking care that nothing was forgotten as you strapped on the heavy pieces. 

So when the ship started getting closer and you stared out the front window next to Fio, you were dumbfounded when you saw a small group of a measly four people standing behind the taped off area holding home made signs disgracing Overwatch for its practices. These people weren't a threat, they were insult throwers, at most. You turned to Captain Amari, with a confused look and mouth hanging open right on the verge of asking questions but unable to think of a polite way to do so. It almost seemed like a joke that this would be your first combat mission back. 

“This is… not the response were expecting.” She said thoughtfully holding her chin. “But still agents, be prepared for anything. Move out.”

It was almost unbelievable how easy the mission went. The small group didn’t even shout, they just stood, glaring angrily and waving their signs at the scientists. You suddenly felt like the most useless team to ever be deployed, you were essentially just extra weight and extra eyes on a trip that may have, in the end, gone exactly the same with or without you.

At the very least, on the ship you helped the researchers get comfortable upstairs and you went back to your bunk. Moira sat in her bed, hair pushed off her forehead and a loose tank top tucked into high waisted running leggings. When you entered and sighed, annoyed, against the door. She looked up and studied you.

“Disappointed you didn’t get a fight?”

“A little. Is that weird?”

“It’s not my place to say.” Her thin shoulders shrugged and a small smirk spread across her lips. You climbed up to your bunk and slumped in, letting your wrist hang off the edge. The ship lifted again, sending some of her documents spilling to the floor and you heard her mutter under her breath. You covered your eyes, getting just a little motion sick from the swaying of the ship in the air, groaning as your stomach tried to settle.

“I have something you can take if you’re feeling uneasy.”

For a moment you actually considered taking something she’d offer, but Morrison’s voice echoed in your brain telling you not to trust her.

“I’ll be okay Moira, thank you though.”

You heard her pen stop writing for a brief moment, before continuing on with endless notes. You tried to stay silent, hoping your motion sickness wouldn't worsen. After a while of staring at the ceiling you climbed down and joined Amari in one of the booths upstairs. 

“Of course Fareeha, I'll tell him you say hello. I'll see you soon.” She turned to you, phone pressed to her ear and a voice droning on from the other end. You dawdled about the kitchen while she tried to get in as many goodbyes as possible.  

“Thank you for trusting me enough to bring me, captain.” You said sitting next to her with a bottle of water as she hung up her call.

“You’ve made a lot of progress, it was a natural next step.” She stirred the tea in front of her. “Jack is very proud of how far you've come.”

You almost spit out your water. You forget that her and Morrison were close, that they did speak to each other often. You wondered if she knew he was going to ask you to come to the farm, or if he told anyone about it at all. With a smile she sipped from her cup and told you about how she was going to Canada to watch her daughter graduate from basic training. She wished you good luck on your own journey, and asked you to say hello to Morrison on her behalf. Some of the researchers joined you upstairs, introducing themselves and spouting off how excited they were for the opportunity to study at the Atlantic base. 

After the journey to the base you helped haul some of their equipment to the buildings with the other team members. Right now the weather was calm, but chilly, sea water spraying into the air and filling your lungs. The base didn't have enough room for your team to stay in the protected building, so you and the drop ship crew were forced to sleep in the bunks on board. The first night was the easiest, and you wish you'd have known that ahead of time. You could hear the crashing of the waves outside storming over the walls and sloshing against the side of the ship. You tossed and turned, heart rate spiking every time the noise happened again. You don't think you got more than an hour of sleep that night. Not even the strongest coffee could keep your brain active through the day, and you spent it groggily stumbling through the base keeping yourself busy. 

The second night, now that was the worst one. Your body shut off as soon as you hit the pillow, physically unable to care anymore about the sound of the waves, but you were launched into a nightmare. The first one you've had in a while.

You remembered flashes of the forest floor. The flames weren't there. Instead, rushing water poured through the trees, dragging your body across shrapnel and loose tree chunks. When you tried to scream your throat filled with seawater, and you cried it out, pouring it down your cheeks. Morrison was there, holding his arms open for an embrace and you rushed towards him, trying to catch yourself on his arms in the tide. You clutched onto him, legs kicking in water trying desperately not to be swept away. He looked to you, his blue eyes so sweet as he pushed his pointer and middle fingers between your lips, pushing until he hit the back of your throat and you couldn't breathe, pushing until you felt like he was crushing your lungs, pushing until you sobbed and your blood appeared on his chin dried and stuck to his skin in the shape of your hand print. 

You woke with a hard gasp, your body reflexing to a sitting position and the top of your head hitting the ceiling forgetting you were in a bunk. At some point you had kicked your blanket off, and Moira now stood with it in her hand, the lights on and a stone face looking at you. You had no explanation for her why you were crying, unable to talk about the horrors your mind created at night. She clutched your blanket to her chest and lifted your chin, turning your face to look at the tears down your cheeks with an almost clinical observation. 

"Part of my research that Overwatch rejected was testing human emotions." Her thin thumb wiped at a stream on your cheek. "I do not enjoy seeing my subjects in pain." 

"I'm not your subject, Moira." You drew your head back from her, disgusted by her words. 

"No, but you are my friend." You were? This was news to you. "And something has clearly hurt you. I can help you-"

"I don't want the kind of help you're offering." You smacked her hand off you, and for once her face changed to an expression you recognized. She looked upset, no, sad, that you would reject her help. She placed your blanket back on your lap, and sat in her own bed below you. 

"Perhaps Commander Morrison has poisoned your mind against me. I am not your enemy, nor will I force the fruits of my labor onto you. You know where to find me, should you change your mind in the future." 

With that she clicked off the light again and you were left in confused darkness. You'd never considered Moira to be an outright emotional person, she was very closed off, and this made you wonder if she was truly being genuine when she talked about wanting to help. You tried to get back to sleep, but your body twisted, every position uncomfortable.

The mission only lasted a few days, but your lack of sleep made it feel like a lifetime. You were mentally worn down by the time you waved goodbye to your team and caught a ride to the airport once you landed in America. 

* * *

 

You were in the window seat on the flight. The drop ships rarely had windows for you to just stare out of, unless you wanted to spend the whole flight with the pilot, so you watched clouds, and fields, and cities zoom by beneath you. Your head bobbed with sleep, but you never were the kind of person who could fall asleep sitting up. Jesse could. He would bring his hat down over his eyes and it would be lights out for him, usually it made you laugh, but right now you were just jealous because you were exhausted.

By the time your plane landed your head was pounding and eyes bloodshot from the dry air. You grabbed your bag from the overhead, popping your ears from the elevation change, bringing your phone up to your face as you left the gate and walked into the bustling airport.

“Are you here?” Morrison’s excited voice rang from the other end as soon as he picked up your call.       

“Just landed. I’m walking to the pick up area now-”

“I’ll be waiting right outside the doors. Are you picking up any bags?”

“Nope, just have the carry on. Amari was very insistent on having us pack light.”

“Hurry out.” He smiled into the phone. You tried to hide a giggle as you hung up, picking up your pace until you were practically sprinting towards the exit. You still had on your boots, combat pants stuffed in at the tops and belt that rode too high on your hips with your uniform shirt tucked in beneath it. The Overwatch logo was all over the pack at your shoulders and across the back of your shirt, so you knew you shouldn’t have been running, but you didn’t care, you were so close, you had to see him and your feet weren’t stopping. As the double doors slid open you snapped your head side to side searching for him.

You almost didn’t recognize him without the blue jacket, hidden beneath dark sunglasses and a bright red baseball hat. His jaw was sporting a heavy amount of stubble, he hadn’t shaved in at least a couple days it looked like. It was weirdly overwhelming to see him again, your chest heaved as you ran to him, throwing your pack to the ground at his side and jumping up so your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

The impact of running at him made him fall back against the car he stood in front of, his arms circled you so tight it knocked the wind out of you. He leaned back letting your weight fully fall against him, holding you tall off the ground and cradling your head into his neck. You almost felt like you could cry, being wrapped in him again after over two months of not seeing him and an extreme lack of sleep was making you emotional.       

“It’s so good to finally see you again.” He whispered against the top of your head. You kissed his neck, little pecks over and over and over again as you squeezed him.

Behind you there was low commotion and you turned your head to look over your shoulder. A couple waiting on their ride clearly recognized Morrison, or at least saw how you were dressed along with his blonde hair poking through the hat and the shear size of him and pieced together that it was Morrison, they were struggling to hide their attempts to take sneaky pictures of him.

“We should go-”

“Come on.” He dropped you and threw your bag into the backseat of the car as you hurried to buckle yourself in and he started it up. You watched the couple pointing at their screen and looking back to the car with curiosity as he drove away.

“I didn’t know they still let manual driving cars on the road.” You finally said when he merged onto the highway and you turned your body towards him.

“Indiana’s not exactly known for keeping up with the times.” He laughed. “At least it’s a hover car. The rental shop still had all tire cars until around five years ago.”

You chewed at your nail trying to hide your smile. Morrison dropped his hand to the center of your thigh and your stomach jumped at the touch. You turned to watch him, his lips tight together but curled upward and eyes forward on the road.

“How long until we get to the farm?” The sun was starting to disappear behind the horizon sending orange rays into the sky.

“About forty minutes. I’m sure you’re hungry, if you want to stop somewhere to get dinner we can.” He glanced at you, squeezing your thigh.

“I ate on the plane. I just want to get there so I can finally get some sleep.” You didn’t realize how tired your voice sounded. His thumb rubbed small circles on your leg. You leaned towards him you reached out to run your fingers over his facial hair. Peppered in with light hairs you could see dark grey ones coming in.        

“Yeah, I know. I need to shave.” His chin lifted for you, letting you touch as much of it as possible.

“It looks good.” You squinted at him. “Very rugged. Outdoorsy. It looks like you’re going to go chop some wood.” You both laughed and you bit your lip as he leaned his head back on the seat and you dropped your hand over his on your leg. “Mountain man Morrison.” You mumbled, mostly to yourself.

“Hey, can I ask something of you?” He stared ahead.

“Depends what it is, I guess.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“It can be just while we’re here, but I’d like you to call me by my first name.” His voice was quiet. You studied his face in silence, wondering if he was serious. The people he worked with for years called him Jack, not you. Jack was for friends, Jack was for people that knew him much better than you did. He looked to you with eyes that told you this was no joke.

“Jack.” You sighed. A smile and blush immediately spread across his face. “Or John?” You teased. He groaned and rolled his eyes.

“You know I meant Jack.”

“Jack it is.” You squeezed his hand and glanced towards the sunset. It would be dark before you got to the farm.

The radio played quietly through the speakers as your sleepy eyes watched the road slowly dim into night. His hand on your leg and the heater blowing against your skin were gently lulling you to sleep and before you realized it you were leaned over the center console, head heavy against his shoulder with your eyes shut and mind drifting off. You stopped processing the bright headlights passing by, tuned out the sound of anything other than sound of wind rushing outside the car.

When you blinked your eyes open again the car was stilled, lights off, and Jack shutting the back door with your bag over his shoulder. He opened your door and clicked off your seat belt as you groggily looked to him.

“We’re here.” He whispered to you as he kissed your forehead. He helped you out of the car and onto the dirt below. In front of you was an old wood two story home, even in the dark you could see the blue paint was chipped and peeling off the sides. He closed the door behind you, and you clasped your hand in his as he led you in.

“It’s cute.” You said as you stared at the intricate glass design on the front door.

“I’ll give you the tour tomorrow, you need some sleep.” You squeezed his hand as he guided you through the darkened entry room and hallway until you were at a room in the back of the house. He flipped on a switch at the wall, illuminating the room in a soft yellow light.

“It looks so comfy.” You almost cried as you heeled off your boots and jumped onto the oversized bed. It was just a box spring and a mattress on the floor but it was piled with flannel blankets and pillows.

“Sorry it's a mess.”

You didn't mind. Pushed against the walls were stacked boxes with the word 'bedroom’ written crudely across them and long ones resting in rows of unbuilt furniture. A tall oversized mirror leaned against the wall between two doors you assumed leading to a closet and the other to a bathroom. Your face buried into the blankets, happily humming now that you were finally able to stretch out lay down.

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” He gripped both of your hips, pushing massaging palms up your back and bringing your shirt with it.

“I’m too tired to move.” You mumbled into the sheets.  

He chuckled and bent over, kissing up your spine and making you shiver. You barely lifted your body as he pushed your shirt over your shoulders and unclasped your bra. His hands ran down your back again, this time hooking into the edge of your pants and tugging until he was able to get them off your legs, he left your clothes in a pile next to your beg on the floor. His touch left you for a moment and you almost fell asleep right then.

“I need you to sit up for a second.”

You obliged, flipping over and pushing yourself up with tired arms, making a lazy attempt with your forearm and hand to cover your chest. To your surprise he brought his red shirt over you, something you thought he would have left on the base, since it was far too sheer for him to wear. He wrapped a big arm around you, manhandling you by your waist to bring you to the pillows. He helped you under the covers, watching as you wrapped yourself in the warmth.

“Goodnight.” He said, running his thumb down your chin and over your bottom lip.

“Goodnight, Jack.” You replied already half asleep, eyes closed and side of your face pressed to the pillow.

* * *

 

You woke when the sun was high in sky, rays beaming through discolored lace curtains onto the bed. Your mind was groggy and you flopped a shoulder down against the bed, twisting your body to face the open door to the hall. A light smell of coffee and bacon lingered in the air, both made long before you opened your eyes. There was an indent in the pillow next to yours, blankets tossed to the side where Jack had thrown them when he woke up earlier. 

Out of the bed the air was cold and your skin dotted with goosebumps. You wrapped yourself in a loose blanket and wandered out the hall with the intent to find him. You walked by rooms that were left mostly empty, spare for dusty pictures on the walls and boxes that hadn’t been touched in what looked like over a decade. The faded floral wallpaper was bubbling and peeling on the edges, holes tearing in some parts from accidents years ago revealing the wood beneath. The edge of the blanket dragged along the floor behind you as you stepped into the living room.

There was an extra large window that overlooked the back of the property, showcasing a nearly endless barren field that stretched over small hills and into the neighbors farm. Far in the distance you could see spots of brown moving across the field and could hear the faint sound of mooing, unexpectedly making you chuckle to yourself. Above you the sound of bare feet tapping on wood drew your attention to the railings of a loft.

“She lives.” Jack said leaning against the railing and looking down to you. You hugged the blanket around you and blinked up at him trying to come up with a witty response. “You slept for almost fourteen hours.” He started down a narrow set of stairs on the opposite side of the room. “Feeling rested?”

“Almost to the point that I’m tired again.” You rubbed sleep from your eyes and grease from your forehead. “Long flights really take a lot out of me.” That was true, but you also didn't want to worry him by telling him about how you slept the last week. 

“Well I don’t want you to sleep through the whole trip.” He joked, messing up the hair on top of your head. 

“What big plans do you have for me while we’re here?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing, really. But if you just wanted to sleep you could have just stayed back on base and napped in the Blackwatch commons as a vacation.”

Blackwatch. Shit. SHIT. You never messaged Reyes. He was going to kill you, or at the very least, force you out running in the rain again. Wait, it’s almost winter. He’d force you to run out in the snow. You needed to find your phone right now. You took off towards the bedroom.

“What just happened? Are you okay?” Jack called out chasing after you.

“Reyes told me to check in with him when I got here, he’s going to flip if I don’t let him know-”

“I already talked to him.” Jack chuckled as he ran a hand through his hair. “I told him how tired you were, pretty sure he’ll forgive you." You sighed with relief and fell against the wall, dragging down until you were sitting. After sighed thank yous and a promise to make you lunch, he retreated back to the loft and you washed yourself of the airport and the mission in a long shower.

Jack convinced you to walk the property with him, to show you the land. You followed him to the end of the dirt driveway where the gate was shut so no one could get though and you trailed along the edge of the fence. You both wore your combat boots, stepping through the fields he told you about the dangerous animals he’s crossed paths with before when he’s walked the perimeter.

You stopped at the back of the property to watch his neighbors cows, leaned against the fence and pointing at the calves. A man on a hover cart with an omnic in the passenger seat slowly came to the fence, with a loud greeting, exclaiming how happy he was to see 'Little Johnny' again.

Jack blushed and tried to hide his embarrassment as he introduced the man as someone he’s known since he was young, and he desperately tried to hurry away as you got the man to tell you embarrassing stories about Jack as a child. He went on and on about when Jack was caught on their farm with a lizard in his hand exclaiming he ‘needed to save it from the cows because it was too small to be out here with them’, about Jack blasting music in the middle of the night from his phone and causing stampedes of cattle, about Jack with acne taking the man's daughter to a middle school dance then dancing so bad he was too embarrassed to ever talk to her again.  

You chopped vegetables for dinner back at the house, still laughing under your breath about the story hours afterwards and Jack threatened not to feed you if you kept giggling like that. You halfheartedly apologized but reminded him that he was the one who wanted to show you his home town, his life outside of Overwatch. That night you fell asleep holding him again, finding a weird comfort in spooning him as your body tried to rest.   

 

In the morning you woke to Jack kissing your shoulder. His SEP shirt had bunched in the movements of your sleep, just under your chest, his hand rested on your stomach and fingers rubbing the tops of your hips. You hummed at the feeling of his lips on your skin, tiny kisses trailing down to your hand and kissing at your knuckles. 

“I’m really liking the beard on you.” You sighed and ran your fingertips through the growing hair.

“You don’t think it makes me look old?” He whispered against you with a smile.

“Maybe that’s why I like it.” You tugged on some of the hairs and his eyes squinted knowingly at you with a smirk spreading across his lips. The hand at your hip dipped to the front of your panties. He lifted your shirt with his teeth, sucking at the soft skin on your chest, biting down and making you moan.    

“Convince me to keep it.” He growled into your ear before he curled under the covers and placed himself between your legs.

You writhed against the sheets, fingernails digging in beneath you as his mouth worked at your core. He knew you. He knew exactly how to get you to be a panting heaping mess in just minutes. You could feel his stupid smirk every time you gasped, every time you squeezed your thighs around his head. Your heels dug into his back with curled toes and your hands balling his hair in your fists as you came undone around him.  

After showers and breakfast he told you he wanted to bring you to some of his old stomping grounds, that he wanted you to see more than just the boring farm land. You happily climbed into the passenger seat of the car, ready to experience his hometown.

He took you to midtown, where the streets were lined with little shops from small business owners selling clothing, and nerdy toys, and specialty doughnuts, among other things. He showed you the convenience store he used to go to after school every day to hangout with his friends in the parking lot and sip cherry flavored sodas. Together you walked down the street, pointing out things in the windows that looked like fun to own, but would be impractical in use.

You stared in at a clothing shop for far too long eyeing a dress that struck you in just the right way. You had no reason to get it, you’d never be caught dead in a dress back on base. Jesse almost blew back to the floor the last time (only time) he saw you in one on an undercover mission. But it was cute, and it reminded you of the farm. The base was the same color as the peeling paint on the side of Jack’s house, with floral greens and pinks, and pops of yellow that looked like the cone flowers which lined the roads you drove down. His eyes watched with question as you dipped into the store and bought it, the clerk behind the desk raising her eyebrow at you when you shoved the bag into a drawstring pack at your shoulders.       

You had lunch together at a tiny cafe that served All American Food (or so, they advertised), and all of the waitresses wore gigantic false lashes. Jack bought his dad’s favorite meal and the “World Famous” malt shake that wasn’t really all that great, but you laughed with him in the booth and listened to him reminisce about growing up in the area, about his family and about a much simpler life.   

He took you to the university campus, as you walked he pointed out places from his childhood. Historic old buildings that stood strong in place, surprisingly untouched by changing times. It was refreshing to see this part of the word, where technology was integrated but hadn’t outright taken over. He talked about his mother and where he would explore during the day while she taught classes.    

“You never went to school here?”

“No, straight into the armed forces for me. Otherwise I would have stayed in Indiana my whole life. I wanted to get out, see the world.”

“What would you have done if you stayed?”

“Followed after my father. Probably would have got an agriculture degree at least, but I would have been a farmer.”

You hooked a pinky with his as you walked slowly down the sidewalk, the small romantic gesture obscured by your strike team pullover sleeve hanging loosely over your hand. When you glanced at him he was smiling. This felt so normal. Forget combat, and contracts, and ranks. It felt right to just be taking your time walking through paths walled with cypress trees, to regular passerby's you must have looked like a regular couple.

The afternoon sun was getting low, beams of light shined through the leaves above spotting across Jack when you looked up to him. His hair almost looked like it was glowing when the rays hit it, his eyes squinted just a little as his face lifted with the smile. You slowed your steps until he stopped and looked at you quizzically.

“You’re looking at me weird, is everything okay?”

You fumbled around in your pocket for your phone and brought it in front of your eyes.

“Smile again.” You requested. He sheepishly obliged, trying to hide it at first before looking above the edge of the phone into your eyes. With one click you took a picture of him then brought your phone down and stared at it blushing. He leaned over you, looking down to check it out.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around your waist, picking you up off the ground until you were eye level with him.  

“You actually wanted my picture?” He teased.

“You looked handsome! I think I’ll draw little devil horns on you though, since I don't think the camera captured yours.” You pretended to look hard at the image, eyes flickering to the top of his head where horns would be if he had any. 

“Ha. Ha.” He sarcastically mocked. “That is unfair though, I don’t have any pictures of you.”

“And you never will.” You kissed the tip of his nose and drew back with a laugh.  

“Are you Jack Morrison?” Came a high pitched voice from a small group walking towards you. College kids, on campus for late classes it looked like. They all had excited smiles on their faces from recognizing him, phones out in their hands. He quickly placed you back on the ground and turned on his commander demeanor.

“Strike Commander Jack Morrison.” He held out his hand to the one who spoke. “And who do I have the pleasure of meeting this evening?”

The group giggled among themselves as they introduced each with their names and shook his hand.

“We’re really excited to meet you! There’s not many people that come from this city and go on to become _famous.”_   Said one of the students with stars in their eyes.

“It’s always rewarding to meet the next generation. Any plans for joining Overwatch after you’ve finished your degrees? We’re always in need of bright young people like you.” He was going to make you gag if he kept this up, this is exactly why you were glad you never stuck around to hear his press rounds on base. It was all such fake bullshit, he didn't actually care about these people. He'd forget their names before they turned around, if he hasn't already. You tried so hard not to roll your eyes as the group fawned over him, asking him questions about traveling the world and fighting omnics.

Your ears perked up when he mentioned he actually hadn’t been in battle himself in a few years. He turned to look back at you and with soft eyes and standing tall he said something that made your heart beat in your throat.

“I’m excited to get back out there, to be on the ground with my agents again.” He locked eyes with you as he spoke to the group. “I hope to fight side by side with you soon.”

The group squealed and excitedly talked over each other about what joining Overwatch would mean for them. But you stood there, mouth open, vein in your neck pulsing. Was that a sick joke? You must have fought with him everyday for a year telling him he was worthless as a commander for not being in the field with his teams.

As you tried to catch your breath the group asked to get a photo with him, one of them holding out their phone to you asking if you minded taking the picture. They gathered at his sides with big smiles, not even noticing you were on the verge of hyperventilating. With a gracious thank you, he told them to stay safe and have a good night. 

Jack continued walking down the sidewalk hands behind his back not checking if you were next to him. You had to jog to catch up to him after you stood in place just watching him for too long.

“Did you mean that? You’re actually going to get in the field?” You asked through shaky breaths.  

“I am. That’s actually why the directors sent me to Grand Mesa for so long. I told them I wasn’t going to put my agents on the line without me anymore, that I couldn’t stand back and just watch the fights. They sent me there to ‘remind me what being a commander meant’ or some nonsense, but I'm not budging on it. I won't let them stop me anymore.” He swallowed hard. You stopped him, grabbing his arm.

“Jack, I know you weren’t looking for my approval, but…” You felt proud? Elated? Relieved? “I can't even explain how happy that makes me.” You hugged his midsection, burying your face against his chest and embracing him as tight as you could. You heard him push out a sharp breath, his body shuddering against yours as he wrapped around you, tangling his fingers in your hair.

“It means a lot to me to hear you say that.” He muttered against the top of your head.

* * *

 

After that, you spent your days in Indiana helping Jack with the house. Boxes upon boxes were stacked throughout the house, furniture to replace the ones he got rid of after his parents died, and memories stored in boxes He continually asked if you wanted to get out, go somewhere else, see the state, do something or anything else, but you insisted you’d rather be there. You wanted him. Just him. Not Commander Morrison, not 'Little Johnny'. You wanted Jack, and the best way to get that was to work on the house together. The first project you tackled was unboxing and piecing together his bedroom furniture. He brought out an old bottle of scotch and you both sipped your drinks as he told you about how this room used to be his parents room, about how he bought the furniture but was always apprehensive to actually set it up, that some of it has been here waiting for him for years. 

You struggled with the instructions which seemed to be written as complicated as they could make them. Back and forth you and Jack read the same couple steps over and over again trying to decipher exactly what they wanted you to do. After an unsuccessful night of bed frame building you gave up and climbed in his lap, kissing his neck, dragging your nails down his chest and through his facial hair. His chest rumbled a low moan when you dropped between his knees and took him in your mouth. He liked it when you looked up, when he was able to look in your eyes as your lips were around him. He liked grabbing your hair and seeing your tongue drag along his length with strings of spit. When he came he liked it when he made you messy, liked it when you sucked on his fingers afterwards and when your hand shook between your legs while he watched you until you got yourself off with strained gasps.

In the mornings you helped him cook breakfast and you’d eat it together at an old table stained with years of use. You struggled together through the piles of directions and by the end of the trip had built an entire bedroom worth of furniture. After he moved it into place you cleaned off a dusty old picture frame that had him, Amari and Reyes in it from when they first joined Overwatch, setting it at his bedside. Amari looked so vibrant, smiling wide with jet black hair. Reyes didn't have the scars on his face yet, and looked like he was trying to hold back a smile of his own. Jack was in the center, signature stupid smirk across his lips and blue eyes stealing the focus.

On the last day, you sat at the table quietly eating with Jack across from you. There was never a point in your life where you'd admit you wanted to spend time deep in farm land, but somehow this trip changed your mind.         

"Maybe next time we can rip out that old wallpaper." You thoughtfully said, mostly to yourself, as you stared at the current one peeling away from the wall.

"Next time-?" Jack had a happy question in his voice. Your cheeks burned realizing that you not only implied there would be a next time, but that you would want to come back. You pressed your lips together and looked intensely at your food, pretending like you didn't say it, but Jack rubbed his leg against yours under the table and you let out a stupid smile. 

You never thought you'd be the kind of person to just enjoy sitting on a porch swing while you cuddled against someone and looked out across a flat landscape. A voice inside you told you to ruin the moment, to bring up the explosion, or the fact that you're not dating, or to initiate a fight about something meaningless. Instead you leaned against him and played with his fingers between yours, trying with all your might to remember this moment in your mind. To remember the quiet rush of wind against the house. The view of lonely cars driving by on the road. The smell of dried grass and Jack's soap that smelled faintly tropical. Tomorrow you’d be on a plane back to headquarters, but you didn’t want to leave. There was a peace in the farmlands you could never feel cooped up in your room at the barracks. The sky here looked just a little bluer, the people just a little nicer. You could see why Jack wanted to retire here.  

As you sat there, Jack kissed the top of your head and asked what you ended up buying from that store in midtown. You looked to him, already with a judgmental face and told him you would show him, but only if he didn't laugh. With eyebrows raised he promised and you darted away into the house to change.     

Jack let out a loud gasp when you walked outside in the dress you bought earlier that week. He stood leaned against the railing of the deck and you blushed and chewed your lip, looking away and feeling incredibly stupid for even buying it in the first place.  

“If you tell anyone I wore this I will personally shove this dress down your throat-”

“I want a picture of you, like this.” He hurried to say, fumbling with his phone in his jean pockets. 

“Absolutely not, you’re not getting proof I wore a dress.”

“You’re killing me. Please, just one?”

You groaned and dragged your feet towards him, hitting your forehead hard against his chest. He let out a big laugh as you wrapped your arms at his midsection. 

"I know I look ridiculous-" 

"Stop! Just. Stay there." He backed up towards the house and you awkwardly leaned back crossing your legs and picking at your nails with your hands in front of you. He wasn't even holding his phone up, he was just smiling like an idiot, staring at you. You tucked your hair behind your ear and tapped your foot to the ground. 

"Well, are you going to take one or not?" Your voice was strained, but when he lifted his phone he smiled and you felt like you were melting. You lifted the corners of your lips, trying to avoid a full smile, but you knew your face would be a blushing mess in the picture. As soon as he got it, he laid his phone on the porch swing and joined you at the railing.     

Clouds rolled through the sky, wisps of white and grey threatening to rain but high winds pushing them far. Cool gusts pushed through the porch as you watched the field with him. He had a goofy smile on his face, one that made you bite your nail to avoid smiling the same way. What a sight this must have been in his childhood, the long open field once unending rows of golden corn and chickens running the grounds. His hand rested against your shoulders, thumb running small circles against the base of your neck through your hair.

“So, do you like it here?” He finally asked you after a few silent moments.    

“I love it here.”

“I love you too.”

He froze. Fingers unintentionally clawing against your neck at the sinking realization. Your head snapped to him.

His face immediately turned the deepest red you’ve ever seen on anyone in your life, ears burning as it spread down his face to his neck. His mouth opened trying to form any words, sputtering and desperately hoping he didn’t actually say what he thought he said. He looked to you with wide eyes and pulled his hand to his chest, as if he was afraid he’d say it again if he kept touching you.

What were you supposed to reply to that?  

“I think I love you too, but you killed my team and scarred me for life?”

“I think I love you too, but sometimes I’d rather push you into traffic?”

“I think I love you, but you’re my commander and this is definitely an ethical violation.”

“I think I love you, but I would never be able to look at myself again if I admitted it.”

“I think I love you, but I'm terrified.”

“I think I love you, but…”

Instead of saying anything you quickly hopped up onto the sturdy railing, turning to face him so you were now eye to eye. When you sat on the railing the edge of the dress rode up your thighs, the back hung off behind you exposing you much more than you intended it to. It was chilly outside, much too cold to be in a dress like this, but it felt good against your blushing skin.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t-” He started as he tried to backpedal out of this. You'd never seen him look so embarrassed in his life, he couldn't meet your eyes and was running a shaky hand through his hair.

Your heart was pounding. He may not have meant to say it, at least not now, but there was no way past this. No way out other than to act, it was now or never. Now, or heartbreak. You brought your hands to the sides of his neck, circling until your fingers interlocked together behind him. You pulled his neck towards you until his blushing face turned from confused embarrassment into gasping realization.

And you kissed him.

You kissed him and your heart beat so hard against your skin you were scared it was going to pop out. Facial hair that was just on the cusp of changing from scratchy to ticklish rubbed against you, his lips were so soft, the feeling of them pressed against you almost made you want to cry. They made you feel like you never wanted to stop kissing him, because when you did it would release the dam of emotion that you welled up in your chest. His large arms wrapped around your waist and his chest had trouble catching his breath through happy sobs, his hips separated your open legs, he held you tight against him and your hand wandered to his hair.

Nothing else mattered. You couldn’t even hear the cars passing by on the road or the wind blowing across the field. All you heard was the sounds you made when your mouths parted, the moans against each other when meeting again. All you could feel was his hand dropping to your thigh and squeezing hard, needy, before it slipped under your dress and up over your panties at your hip.

“Jack-” You gasped out against his lips. His fingers curled into you, holding you tight enough that you'd knew he'd bruise you.

He went back for more. Kissing you so passionately you almost forgot where you were. One hand on your thigh the other at your hip he pushed further up your dress until he was cradling you against him, holding you so you didn't fall backwards off the railing as he leaned you over the edge.

“Jack.” You moaned. You could feel the front of his jeans tighten and poke hard against your inner thigh. Fuck. He was kissing you so much you could hardly breathe, he was holding you against him like this would be his only chance. His face was so warm from blush and wanting, he was absolutely consumed by you, unable to think of anything other than keeping your lips to his.

With hurried hands you dropped down his abs, fingers popping out the button of his jeans, unzipping and releasing him against your palms. He groaned against your mouth as you wrapped both hands around him and pumped towards you, squeezing and desperate for him. He was careful and testing as he brought his tongue against yours, a smile on his lips as he tasted you. While your wrists twisted, he broke the kiss to place wet frenzied kissed down your cheek, across your neck and over your collarbones, each one making you breathe harder, making your skin buzz with happiness. His facial hair trailed across your skin and made you shiver.

The hand at your hip found its way to the front of your panties, fingers teasing against you between your legs. At the base of your neck he sucked at your skin, teeth biting just hard enough to make you arch your back against him. When you moaned and briefly released him from your grip you could feel his lips lift in a grin, his fingers push past your folds and slowly into your entrance. His lips crashed into yours again as you gasped when he curled his fingers in you.

You bounded your hips forward until you were almost falling off the railing. He pulled from you, hooking his fingers at the sides of your panties and moving them to the side. Without him in you for months, after only mornings of Jack with his face between your legs, or you dropping to your knees for him, your body shook as it stretched around him when he pushed his tip in you. He kissed you through every whimpering gasp until he hilted in you, pressing hard against your nerve endings and rushes of heat flowed through your body. While you adjusted to his size, he wrapped your legs around his hips, one hand gripping down on your thigh, the other holding your back firmly in place.

“I love you-” He moaned out as he bounced into you. Wood splinters were digging into the skin of your ass but nothing could make you rip away from his lips as they continued on yours. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, fingers pulling at his hair.

“I love you-” He moaned against your lips when he picked you up and made you gasp as your body came down hard against him. He meant to take you in the house, but instead he pressed you against the door, the cold glass making your shoulders tense and your chest rock against his. He's never fucked you this hard, so completely unable to stop himself. His breathing shuddered. He wasn't holding back anymore, he wanted you, he wanted your body, he wanted your love, and right now you were giving it to him. His hand searched for the door knob and he carried you in, holding you strong against him as he continued in you.

“I love you-” He moaned when he lowered his mouth to your neck again, biting and marking your skin anywhere he could. He wanted to carry you to the bedroom but he couldn’t, he had to take you here. He dropped to his knees, placing you on your back against the smooth wood floor and he kicked back behind him to close the front door.

He drove into you, again and again making your eyes roll and twitches of muscles flicker across your body. His frenzied hands pushed the dress up until he was bringing it over your head. A thumb dropped to your core, riding against your clit as you struggled to get your bra off and chucked it across the room. He watched you with intense eyes as you gasped beneath him, as your walls pulsed and rocked around him and he pumped into you with eyes you'd never noticed before. Eyes that weren't just staring at your scars, or the marks he was leaving on your skin. They weren't just hungry for more, pulling the image of you shaking on his cock. His eyes were looking at you like you were the only thing in the world, like there was a spot light and it was shining directly into your soul.   

You gasped, shoulders pushing into the floor and straining your neck, hips in the air attached to his with your panties pushed to the side. He was fully clothed with the exception of his pants down to his thighs. He was sweating, overheating, and he ripped off his shirt, throwing it somewhere in the direction of your dress.

“I love you-” He cried out, dropping down on top of you, kissing you across your chest, his hand sneaking beneath your back and forcing you to arch against him. You wrapped your legs around him, tightly locking your ankles at his back, his thrusts shallow but hard and your body squeezing every inch of him. _"Fuck-"_  He whispered against your skin. "I love you. I love you." He was pleading with every thrust, each word coming to him as more of a realization than the last, as if he was saying this and just now figuring it out too. You couldn't speak, words catching in your breaths almost on the verge of tears. 

This was too much. Your skin was prickling with heat, a tight knot just on the verge of breaking deep in your core. You were snapping your hips up to him, his lips found yours again and he kissed you until you were screaming against them. This was new, a feeling so intense pushing from your throat. You'd never been one to scream while you came undone, it was always gasps and moans and other sexy noises, but this was guttural, sobbing, one of the most intense feelings your body has felt, that he's ever made you feel. Above you his body curled into yours, wide eyes and gasping mouth on Jack hanging open as he spilled in you, unable to control himself as your walls squeezed hard around him. Adrenaline was rushing through his body as he stayed above you, watching as your body shook with aftershocks and a tear fell out of the corner of your eye. 

He pulled himself from you quickly, lifting you up into a cradle against his chest, his palm cupping your cheek. Fuck. You couldn't do this. You were scared. You were so fucking scared of finally admitting what you already knew. 

“I love you Jack, but I wish I didn’t.” You sobbed into your hand and his eyes looked like they glazed over before he shut them and held you close to his heart. You could hear the beats. Still racing and pulsing into his skin. He squeezed you tighter, and dropped his forehead to the top of your hair, burying his wet eyes against you. 

"I know." His voice cracked. 

* * *

 

That night he carried you to his bed, placing you on top of the mattress that sat in a bed frame you built together. He knelt in front of you, bringing your panties back in place, pulling an old shirt from his closet and sliding it over your body. On his knees in front of you he watched your face with bloodshot eyes.   

You rubbed your fingers against the soft spots of his neck, lingering into his hair, heart still pounding in your chest and eyebrows turned in sadness. Love was a strong word. Did you love him? You loved Jesse. You loved Genji. You even loved Reyes, as difficult as he was. You loved Jack. You loved Jack, not Morrison. Not the man who sent your team into a minefield. You loved the man who kissed your scars and held your hand. You weren’t even sure how long you had, or when it even started. Your love for him felt like it crept up on you like the flames on the forest floor, scarring you forever but the actual moment a blur.

“How long have you known?” You whispered down to him.

“That I love you?” He sounded so hurt, and it made your heart twist in your chest.

“That you love me.” You affirmed quietly.

“For a long time.” He sighed and you heard him sucking on his cheek. “Longer than you probably think.” He sounded scared to admit it and he bit at his bottom lip.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I realized I had feelings for you after I broke that window in the meeting room.” That felt like a lifetime ago, like different people. “I saw the fear I caused you and my gut reaction was to try to comfort you, but I froze. And, I don’t know how say this-” He rubbed his palms against his eyes in frustration. “I wouldn’t listen to myself. When I went to apologize that night I realized I was being nasty to you because I was trying to avoid feeling this way. But even then, it was still easier to be mean than it was to admit I had a crush on someone I’ve caused irreparable damage to.” He looked down and you could almost see his eyes watering.

"I'm sorry Jack." You tried to cover your mouth with curled fingers. "I don't think I was ready to hear it." You could feel your snot in your throat, stomach clenching from your body tensing for so long.  

"I'm willing to give you however much time you need. However much distance you need. I-" His fingernail was digging into his lip. "I just can't imagine my future without you." 

"Don't get mad at me if I ignore you when we get back on base." You dug into your cuticles. "I just need some space to think. I just need to process... everything." You looked around you. The window outside was dark, off color lace covering it looking even more haggard now in the lamplight.

"Whatever you need." He brought your knuckles to his lips and kissed them as lightly as he could. For a few beats you sat in silence, your chest tightening with guilt.

"Do you want me to sleep on the couch?" His eyes lingered on your face, searching for any response. 

"God, I'm sorry Jack." You cried out, half laughing and half sobbing while you pushed your hair out of your face. "I'm sorry to send such mixed signals, but no, please, I want you in the bed." Your hands dropped, cupping his whiskered jaw and your thumbs running through the hair. 

That night you held Jack as he fell asleep, and you stared at the light of the moon shining through the lace curtain. You desperately wanted to sleep, needed sleep, but your mind or your body wouldn't let you. You watched as the dark shadows shifted with the sky until the sun rose with purple hues across the window. Quietly, you both packed your things before heading to the car to drive back to the airport. You glanced at the dress, choosing to leave it behind, folded on a shelf in the closet. Jack's under eyes were puffy as he stared ahead at the road and loosely held your hand on the center console.

On the flight home you wore your combat uniform, he wore his hideous blue commanders jacket. When he put that on, he was back. Jack was gone, Morrison arrived with a stern face and eyes that averted when you tried to meet them. People stared when they recognized him. In the terminal you sat next to each other, holding conversations that no longer had substance, his hand dangerously close to yours but not grabbing it because there were too many people around, too many opportunities for a scandal of romance between an agent and a commander that the Strike Commander couldn't afford.

Luckily, or unluckily, your seats on the plane were separated since you booked them separately. This time you had a middle seat. You tried to force yourself to sleep again, to make your mind go back to driving in the car with Jack, with the heat on and his hand on your thigh, but you just made yourself sad. 

You had so much to tell Jesse. As soon as you slept, as soon as you had a nice long sleep you'd talk to Jesse, and he'd listen, really listen, and give you a reality check. Until then, you curled your legs against the seat in front of you and tried to remember the trip in full detail, tried to remember the overwhelming happiness you felt.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just remember, I love you guys and no matter what happens after this, I always will! (˵ ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°˵)ﾉ⌒♡*:･。.
> 
> ** Edit: I can't believe I'm able to say this, but [stormcallart has drawn casual Jack based on this chapter](https://stormcallart.tumblr.com/post/181064801856/so-hostilewitness-ao3-dragged-me-into-jack-hell#notes)  
> ;-; I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!


	15. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are you still there? No one's heard from you in days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of different formatting for this one ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**06:03:41 SUNDAY**

Morrison slept in restless fits, tossing and turning until the sun was shining low on the horizon. For the first time in over a week he cracked his eyes open to an empty bed, the sheets beside him cold from the still air.

Time. He just needed to give you time. Late last night he held your hand and looked out the window in silence while you both rode in the backseat of a cab heading back to base after a long flight. Parting with a bittersweet 'I'll talk to you soon' that weighed heavy on his heart with each step further from you, he could still feel an ache of loneliness in his chest. He needed more sleep.

**06:05:02 SUNDAY**

Sunday mornings for Commander Reyes meant waking up at the same time he always did. He groggily brought his phone to his face, checking his messages, only seeing the last ones from the Blackwatch group chat where you told everyone you were safe and back on base but going to sleep followed by Jesse and Genji’s replies to get some rest, that they’d see you soon. Sunday mornings meant he would be hurried on his way out of the barracks, crossing campus to the Blackwatch labs before anyone else would notice his form evaporating into black above him. Sunday mornings meant wires and monitors and tests and Dr. O'Deorain’s cold judgmental stares.

“How have your symptoms been progressing since your last visit, Gabriel?”

“Not great, doc.” He growled sarcastically and took a deep breath as Moira listened to his lungs with a stethoscope. His body feels like he's walking on glass and there's a constant tightening at the base of his neck that puts him in a bad mood. For the most part, he’s been able to control it. Keeping his body cooled, focusing on his breathing if his heart starts pounding, balling his fists at his sides resisting the urge to strangle Lacroix for suggesting idiotic things during meetings that always ran too long. He thought bringing in Moira would help, that her expertise and willingness to bend ethical rules would be the answers to the questions that ate away at him, questions about why this was happening seemingly only to him and without explanation. 

"It's getting worse." Moira stated, her long nails resting on his shoulder while she looked into a monitor. She looked almost tired, her hair usually perfectly slicked back stood in a few places and she rubbed at her eye. 

"Do you think I don't know that?" He's been quicker to anger over the last few months. He's been harder on his agents too. Extra miles, actually enforcing curfews, throwing away those stupid new cigars Jesse's been smoking instead of cigarettes. 

From a drawer Moira pulled tubes and vials. Great, she needs more blood. She's drawn so much of his blood over the last half a year he's almost surprised he still had any left in his body. With gritted teeth he shrugged off his sweatshirt and held out his arm, dark eyes intensely watching her every move as she swabbed his skin and flicked at his veins. 

**13:17:36 SUNDAY**

Late in the day Morrison was puttering around his room, taking his now cleaned laundry from his dryer and folding it perfectly back into dresser drawers. He looked at himself in the mirror for a long time, fingers to his chin running through the covering facial hair and lingering on a small hickey you left at the base of his throat, already almost completely faded. You liked the beard, liked running your hands through it and gently pulling at the hairs with a laugh pushing out between your lips. He could still feel your hands touching his jaw line and the kisses you placed on his cheeks. He could still hear your voice moaning his name as it tickled your inner thigh and his fingers curled in you.

He spent a long time shaving it. Standing over his sink and leaning against the counter, wanting nothing more than to look over and see you standing at the doorway all blushing and embarrassed like you were the first night you were here. He told you he'd give you space, told you to check with Reyes to see if Blackwatch had anything for you to work on so you could take a step back from him, so he didn't scare you away. God, he felt so stupid. Why did he think you said 'I love you'? You weren't the kind of person to casually drop something like that on someone, he imagined. If you were going to confess your love before this it would have been with theatrics. Maybe you would have pushed him away and shouted it at him after coming home from a long mission, or written it out in a lengthy handwritten note that you'd slap against his door.     

"I love you but I wish I didn't." He repeated your words out loud to himself in the mirror as his hand ran over the smooth parts of his chin. "Me, too." He could have had it easy, fallen in love with a fan girl who fawns over his every step or a reporter he could flirt with in every press interview. If he'd ever fallen in love before he didn't know it. He didn't know a love like this could make him so happy, could make him fall to his knees and hold your hips like the goddess you were to him. He didn't know a love like this could hurt him so deep in his core. Face only half shaven he leaned his body weight against the sink.

With a deep breath he continued with the razor. Overwatch needed him, and he was going to be the commander they required. He was going to make you proud, never skip on an opportunity to serve with his agents. You were right about him not being in the field for long. He missed it, and that was where he felt the most rewarded. From here, things could only look up. 

* * *

 

**06:11:00 MONDAY**

It frustrated Jesse to no end that you changed your key code and didn’t tell him the new one, especially on the day you were gone and he wanted to get into your room to use some of your lotion that smelled like fresh oranges.

What frustrated him even more was when it was six in the morning and he stood outside your door with Genji knocking over and over with no response. They must have waited at least fifteen minutes, if not more, but no sound came from inside your room, no angry groaning about being woken up, no muffled sound of your shower running, just nothing.

“I do not think she’s in there.” Genji finally said after running out of patience.

“She’s probably back up with that damn commander.” He scoffed back, heading towards the elevators with Genji at his side. "Takin' one vacation together and now they're inseparable." 

They started sparring without you, practiced until Commander Reyes made his way through just a little later than usual. He asked if you'd be joining them for practice, and he rolled his eyes when Jesse told him you either weren’t answering or weren’t in your room. He's missed you in the practice room with him, they've all missed you. Genji never thought Jesse could take his punch like you could, and you'd always smirk back at him before you tried to put him in a hold. Genji didn't think either of them were nearly as fun to spar with as you. 

Rounds went by and the members of Blackwatch left the training room to let the Overwatch strike teams start their practices. The three had a quiet breakfast with no one there to tease them about Jesse’s bedhead, or the way Genji chewed his food too loud, or Reyes's bland choice of yogurt and oats. There was an air of disappointment between them that you hadn't shown up, they were actually looking forward to hearing about how your first combat mission back went, about how the trip to the farm was and to find out if you and Morrison fought the whole time.  

As Reyes returned his tray he nervously glanced into his reflection in a frosty window, checking for any signs of deterioration lifting to the air around him. 

**11:44:53 MONDAY**

At lunch Reyes locked himself away in his office pouring over meticulous notes and trying to ignore a shifting in his stomach that told him something just wasn’t right. He picked the olives out of his sandwich, wondering if he was losing his taste for them, he pushed it unfinished away from him in disgust, couldn’t force himself to drink water because his insides were doing flips. Just bad ingredients, he told himself. The air was weird because the weather was changing, he told himself. He couldn’t get comfortable because he didn’t stretch before sparring this morning, he told himself. It's just the tests Moira was running, he told himself. 

One of the reports Reyes was going over indicated a mission of interest. With a quick call, Jesse was notified he was sent out for recon to check the place out.

"And no cowboy hat this time, McCree." 

"Ah, you're no fun." Jesse's voice rang back on the other end. There was a long pause before the good lucks and the goodbyes. Jesse was fiddling with something on his end, nervously picking at a string on his clothes. He wanted to ask if something didn't feel right, if Reyes was sure he wanted to send him on this mission, but he knew better than to question his commander.   

**13:10:39 MONDAY**

Genji found Dr. O'Deorain in a particularly chipper mood in her lab, humming along to a tune playing over speakers, smiling at a series of vials she was moving around. He left his face plate down covering his disgust for her while she measured something on his back. With no warning she pulled a circuit from him and shoved another in its place, sending Genji’s body into reboot mode and he angrily muttered Japanese at her calling her every bad name he could think of. Angela would never do this, or at the very least, she would warn him. He balled his human hand into a fist and pressed it hard against a leg he had no feeling in while his systems came back to life.

With a hard pat to the back, Dr. O'Deorain told Genji to go test out the new system and report back to her tomorrow. She turned, returning to her vials and her humming and Genji huffed out of the room, feet angrily stomping away until he realized he was halfway across campus at Angela’s office door.

* * *

 

**06:10:57 TUESDAY**

Jesse left early in the morning for the mission to gather intel on a potential Talon operation moving towards Italy. He wanted to see you before he left but there was no time to run up to your room, so he messaged you instead with a long paragraph about how you really should answer your damn phone once in a while, and that he wanted to know how your mission and your trip went, ending with a reminder that he’ll be back in a couple days and that he loves you.

Genji parted with Jesse outside, heading towards the practice rooms while Jesse split to head to the airfield. Reyes would see Jesse off, so it was a morning of sparring alone for Genji. The practice bots never had quite the same feel for him, and sometimes when he looked at them too long, he felt a gross guilt in his stomach as he considered his own body compared to its. As he was practicing his high kicks and overwhelming feeling of uneasiness set in him. Sweating from his forehead and not even half way done with his session, he jogged back to the barracks. He waited outside your room again, knocking and messaging your phone listening for anything inside, but still, nothing. 

**14:56:25 TUESDAY**    

Morrison was running a briefing to some of the lieutenants, going over run downs of standard operating procedures on missions involving high profile targets. Although Amari was not the same rank, she sat at his right hand, chiming in with helpful tips and thoroughly ensuring every person understood. He smiled to himself sometimes, watching her take over for him like this. She would have been a better choice for the face of Overwatch was a thought he often had. Always poised, well spoken. There were some meetings where he would forget he was running them and Amari would have to remind him to speak just because he enjoyed watching her work. 

After the meeting they sat together on a bench overlooking the cadets field practice, young kids shivering in the freezing cold as they were yelled at that they needed to focus in any situation. She listened with a soft expression while he poured out the details of the trip together, of accidentally admitting his feelings and of the fear of being too much of an emotional burden on you. At some point in his tale, Wilhelm joined them, sitting next to Morrison and squeezing both him and Amari in a tight side hug, offering flowery, and borderline useless, advise, but it made Morrison laugh anyways. 

* * *

 

**17:30:33 WEDNESDAY**

It wasn’t until Wednesday that Reyes tracked Morrison down in his office after strings of vague messages back and forth about how the trip went. By then, snow was starting to fall and cling to the edges of the windows. Overwatch agents in their daily training sessions ran laps through the halls rather than in the chilled winds outside.

Morrison was only just then eating his lunch after a (very) long day. They had a brief conversation about work, about missions their agents were currently fielding, about how Morrison's time in Colorado was. The conversation fell to you, Reyes asking if she liked the farm or thought it was as disgusting as he did. Morrison rolled his eyes, responding that you loved it.

"Speaking of, are you ever going to let her out of your room to breathe? I know you two like to go at it like rabbits, but you got to give the girl a break sometime." 

"What are you talking about?" Morrison turned to him in confusion as he stuffed his mouth with the last of his food. 

"She's been skipping out on practice in the mornings, we assumed to be with you?" 

“I haven’t seen her since we got back, Gabe.” They looked to each other with brows down in suspicion.

“Then where has she been?”

“What do you mean where has she been? We had a pretty intense time at the farm, so I told her to check in with you and work with Blackwatch for the week. She _should_ be with you.”

“Jack-”

Morrison was breathing hard through his nose, a sinking feeling hitting his stomach, like rocks. Reyes breaking out in a sweat. 

“Jesse and Genji haven't been able to get a hold of her either. You haven't talked to her since you got back?” Reyes had a sweeping realization across his face. How could he be so stupid? Why hadn't he checked on you himself?

“I-” Morrison looked at his phone and all of the sent messages to you with no replies. “I was trying to give her space.”  

“Jack.” Reyes sucked in a breath as he looked to the door then back at Morrison. “Are you telling me, as her commander, no one has seen or heard from her in almost _four_ days?”

Morrison shot from his seat, circling his jacket around him, rushing past Reyes out the hallway. He sprinted through the office areas, past the meeting rooms and out the doors towards the barracks. Elevators would just slow him down, he flew up the stairs faster than he ever had in his life. Behind him Reyes followed on his heels, phone to his ear calling you again and again, each time going straight to voicemail.

Morrison had to catch his breath when he made it to your door, his heart pumping hard in his chest. He knocked, and demanded you open up, but all he heard was the echoes of his knocks down the hall and the faint buzzing of the fluorescent lights above. He looked to Reyes with wide eyes and punched in your key code. The lock buzzed indicating it was wrong.

“Jesse couldn’t get in, said she changed her code before her mission.”

Morrison stared at the pad and waves of fear rushed over him. What else could it be? He tried the last four digits of your badge ID number, your birthday, he tried any numbers he could think of, all flashing the pad red and buzzing back at him. He hovered over the pad and held his breath as he slowly typed in his birthday. The door clicked and slid open and his heart clenched.

Your light was on, but the room was empty. Your bed was a mess, blankets spilling to the floor, your bag from the trip tucked against your desk.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, accessing the Overwatch database and clicking Athena on while his eyes searched the room.

“Athena.”

“Yes, Commander Morrison?” The AIs voice rang out into the room.

“I need you to run a check on an agent, I need to know if they left the base.”

He said your name out loud, slowly, like he expected Athena not to know what he said. She chimed that it would only be a moment.

Reyes and Morrison searched your room for anything that may have told them where you were. Your boots were still next to your door, lined up the way they you had them when you visited Morrison’s room. Next to them, your formal shoes and running shoes. Morrison recognized those as the only shoes you owned and he twisted around desperately searching for anything else. Hung on your wall was your security clearance badge, something you only took off the wall if you needed to access a high priority area or to leave the base. On the ground next to your blankets laid your pajama shorts with underwear resting in them. Usually you had the decency of at least throwing them in your laundry bag before leaving your room. Something wasn’t right here.  

“No agent by that name has been reported to leave the base, sir.” Her voice rang out.

“So she’s still here?” Asked Reyes to the phone.

“I believe so, Commander Reyes.”

“Check on the last known location of her phone.” Morrison barked to the AI.

“One moment.”

Morrison was getting frantic. He ripped what blankets were still on your bed, finding nothing in your sheets. He knocked off the pillow, revealing his SEP shirt balled beneath and grabbed it. He brought it to his face, it smelled like you and the dust from the farm, and his stomach hurt wondering where the hell you could have gone. Reyes was searching through your bag at your desk, your clothes and wallet and notebook all still packed neatly inside. He searched your bathroom, finding a towel dried long ago, a half empty water bottle sitting on the edge of your sink.  

“It’s like she just… vanished.” He whispered, as he lifted the picture on your desk of your pinning ceremony. Staring at how you cocked your head to the side with a big smile and Morrison was leaned next to you. 

“Her phone appears to be off, the last location was here at the barracks.” Athena came through the speaker.  

“I will not have an agent missing in action.” His voice sounded like a threat, to you, or to Reyes, or to Athena, to anyone who was listening. He squeezed the shirt in his fist and stared out your window to the clear night sky and twinkling stars, edges of the glass fogging with the humidity of the two large men crowding your room.

Reyes was pacing back and forth, calling Jesse, Genji, Moira, Captain Amari, hell even the agents you went on your mission with, anyone with any sort of connection to you in a desperate attempt to find out if anyone saw you last. No one else knew, no one else could recall seeing you physically on the base after coming back from the states. 

As he looked to Morrison there was a seed of suspicion deep in his gut.

What if he had done something? What if he did something to you and now he’s covering it up? What if he did something to you and he’s just playing pretend, trying to appear as a clueless commander? No commander would go days without hearing from their team members. Not without good reason.

He has secrets, and things he’s never shared with Reyes. Things he seemed to only be able to talk about with you. Things Overwatch refused to let either of them talk about. 

He’s capable of lying, creating truths for Overwatch officials' stories and spinning things his way in the media. 

He’s capable of killing. Reyes has seen that first hand in the battlefield.

He was the last person to talk to you. 

He was the last person to see you. 

Reyes slowly turned to Morrison, reaching around to the back of his belt for his knife should he need to make a quick movement.

“Did you do something to her Jack?” His voice was scary, low and rumbling in his chest.

“Are you out of your mind? Why would I ever-”

“You used to fight a lot, I had to get between you two a few times.” His fingers wrapped around the handle at his back. “Jack, if you hurt her-”

“It’s not like that anymore, it hasn’t been for-!”

“Maybe it was an accident. I need you to tell me the truth.” Morrison could see the paranoia in Reyes's eyes, could see how he kept his hand hidden behind him. He wasn't going to give him a shot, he lunged at Reyes, grabbing for his arm but missing and toppling against the inlaid cabinets set in your wall with a hard crash. Reyes was too quick for him, pulling the knife from the holster and up to his throat. Morrison's hands held Reyes's shoulders trying to push him away.    

“Get off me! I didn’t hurt her Gabe!”   

“Don’t lie to-!” Reyes was raising his voice. 

"I love her Gabe, why would I hurt her?!" Morrison moved quickly, knocking the knife from his grip and sending the blade across the room landing on the floor of your bathroom. 

"You don't! She's just a play thing to you, you've told me yourself!" Reyes rushed at Morrison again, landing a hard punch in the poster boys' stomach. Reyes grabbed the edges of Morrison's jacket, pulling him close to his face. "If you messed with her-" 

"I love her, Gabe." Morrison said breathing hard but words coming out softly. "I accidentally told her on the farm and she wasn't ready. That's why I haven't talked to her since we got back, I don't want to scare her away. I just want to find her, please. I had no idea she's been missing-" Morrison swallowed hard as Reyes slowly let go of his collar.  

"If I ever find out you hurt her, or if you ever break her heart, I will be the one to end you." Reyes grabbed Morrison's arm in a rough grip. "Jesse thinks you're full of shit, and I agree with him. You're not the settling down type, you never have been. Should I remind you about all the stories Overwatch has had to suppress for you when you went out chasing after anything with a pulse?"  

"That was years ago. Threaten me all you want but it's the truth." Morrison elbowed Reyes's hand off him. Dark eyes stared into blue, trust wavering with each blink. Morrison's phone started ringing, he refused to rip away from the horrible look Reyes was giving him. 

"Commander Morrison, it's Director Petras. It's urgent." The AI chimed from his speaker.

He brought the phone to his mouth, not even a greeting out of it before Petras was screaming so loud on the other end that Reyes could hear it clearly.   

“Are you fucking kidding me Jack?!” 

“Sir?” Morrison backed up from Reyes, still eyeing him as if he would try to hit him again. 

“Fucking your direct reports in broad daylight? And after your tantrum about getting back in the field. You'll be lucky if you even still have a fucking job after the clean up this is going to take!”

How could-? Jack’s pulse quickened, vein beating against his neck. Someone in Indiana must have talked. He should have seen this coming.

“Drag your dumb ass to your office, the press team and the lawyers need to get you on the phone _right now_ to discuss how we’re handling this.”

“Of course, sir.” Jack replied in a small voice as he pushed the button to end the call.     

Lawyers. You had to be with the lawyers. That was the only place that made sense, that was the only place people would truly disappear to. You were probably stolen away from your room by security. He could see you in his mind, dragged kicking and screaming back to the legal building where you told him you never wanted to set foot again. You had to be there. You _had_ to be there.

“She’s with legal.” He stated as a fact, trying to convince himself more than Reyes. “I’ll be in my office.” Morrison shouldered past him with a huff, sprinting down the hall, hoping beyond hope they would confirm they had you. 

Reyes stood taking deep shaky breaths, staring at himself in your bathroom mirror. He needed to get out of here. He needed to calm down. He snapped your door shut with enough force that it shorted out the keypad for a moment before flickering back to life.  

**22:55:01 WEDNESDAY**

Morrison was sat at his desk behind his closed office door resting his face in his hands as the screen on his wall scrubbed through page after page of news articles. He couldn’t look up, couldn’t bear to see you in the pictures the sites posted with degrading headlines.

How long had he been on this call now? The timer on the phone read that it was getting close to five hours. Five hours of being screamed at, reamed by the board of directors, scolded by lawyers, coached by press representatives.

The story started on a gossip site, a trashy rumor mill that Overwatch usually ignored because it was easy to discredit them. The websites published the pictures on Sunday night. By Monday, Overwatch was already doing damage control, claiming the person in them couldn't have been the Strike Commander, that their Golden boy wouldn't have facial hair and wouldn’t have been anywhere near Indiana at that time.

Then one of the college kids got greedy, frame hungry or offered money for their story, he didn't know or care to know which it was. The one who asked him who he was while walking the campus appeared on an evening news segment on Monday, stars still in their eyes as they talked about meeting Morrison and about how tall he was in person. They showed the picture you took of him and the group, confirmed Morrison spoke to them about joining Overwatch. On national news this kid confirmed the man in the photos published on the rumor mills was him.

On Tuesday it was in real news articles, talked about in daily news videos online. People searched for your identity, guessing wildly who it could be. Overwatch tried to backpedal, claiming the woman couldn’t have been someone with the organization. Then the whole group of college kids appeared for another interview regarding the picture they got with the commander, spouting off information they shouldn’t be, sharing 'he was holding hands with a girl wearing a sweatshirt that had, you know, that big symbol on the back, and I think, it said, um, strike team? When she pushed up her sleeves to take my phone for the picture she had these gnarly scars all over her arm, definitely the same ones as that picture' and they pointed to the photo of you that was making the most headlines. The one that showed your scars and your body. 

Overwatch couldn't deny it anymore. Their social medias went silent, their press department stopped answering phones, they needed to handle this internally swiftly and quietly. There were no contracts that would fix this, no explanation to the public that would simmer the buzz. They needed to let the story die on its own. They threw out all sorts of ideas. 

“Well then take her off the fucking contract!” Petras screamed at one point.

“We can’t do that sir, if we void it then we’re also nullifying the non disclosure agreement, and she would be free to speak to the press about-” The lawyer paused, remembering Morrison was still in the call. “About an incident that would be detrimental to Overwatch’s image, _especially_ now.” A mousy lawyer replied.

Hours of fighting and Morrison quiet with his hands in his head, unable to even break the voices to ask about you, to make sure you were okay, that they weren't keeping you locked in a cell somewhere like a criminal just because you fucked someone from a higher rank. 

“This is unbelievable. She may not have any legal or ethical implications, but you, _her commander_ , you do Jack. Do understand this is an abuse of power? How this is going to appear when people find out she's on your team as a captain? We need to make sure she keeps her head down and her mouth shut, Jack.” Petras scolded. 

“I know her, she wouldn’t talk-”

“You better make damn sure she doesn’t, because if she does it’s your ass on the line!” He's threatened Morrison a hundred times now, and each time it was becoming less believable. Angry words just flying from the director's mouth, bitter that he had to deal with a social media shit storm instead of the upcoming missions. 

“If you’d just let me see her-”

“What? See her?” Director Petras sounded close to the phone.

“Just let me talk to her. I know you slime balls in legal have her-” Morrison accused into the phone. 

“Commander Morrison, I'm not sure what you mean, we don’t have her-”

“We haven't been able to get a hold-”

“You don’t-” Morrison wiped sweat from his forehead. “She’s not with you?”

“No, sir. You're the one with the agency in this situation, we don't need to work with her.” Came the mousey lawyers voice. There was a long pause, a silence that made Morrison’s head feel like it was spinning. If you're not in your room, but not in legal, and no one has seen you in four days, but you haven't left the base, then where the hell were you?  

Over speakerphone lawyers and the directors argued how to move forward from here, how to deal with you since your relationship to Morrison since you were locked in with the contract. Morrison couldn’t listen, he needed to find you. He shot up from his desk, leaving his office phone on speaker and rushing out the door through the building and into falling snow.

“Athena.”

“Yes, Commander Morrison?”

“Alert all security personnel, we need to sweep the grounds for a missing agent.” His voice was stern but laced with worry. She chimed that she was on it, and Morrison tried calling Reyes but his phone immediately went to voicemail. He probably let his phone die again, but he couldn't focus on that right now, he didn't want another incident like earlier anyways, maybe this was for the best that he didn't answer. He sprinted towards the barracks, on his way to search your room again, hoping to find a trail or anything that could tell him where you went.

**22:56:15 WEDNESDAY**

Across campus, Moira snapped open the door to his room after seeing tendrils of black seeping out from beneath into the hallway, eyes immediately falling to your motionless body on the floor.

“Gabriel, what have you done?”

   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Edit: I have another amazing fan art to share ;-; [From fuckmyrighteye <3 ](https://hostilewitness-ao3.tumblr.com/post/181173460539/i-sketched-this-very-quickly-while-reading#notes)  
> THANK YOU AGAIN I LOVE IT


	16. Real Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How'd you get on Reyes's floor? Time to rewind and figure out where you went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a heads up, there's some stuff in this one that gets pretty intense and involves two characters in an explicit situation where both parties are under the influence and can be coded as sexual assult. It was not intended to be written as such, but can be triggering. 
> 
> If you have any questions before reading please reach out to me on twitter or tumblr and I'm happy to give any additional warnings! :)

After a quiet car ride from the airport, Morrison walked you to your door at the barracks. Your bag strapped to your shoulders and him rolling a large suitcase behind his heels, you walked close together hands lightly bumping against each other wishing you could lace your fingers together, but too afraid of the stares you would get if you did. You watched him in the mirrored walls of the elevator, watched his eyes flicker to yours and small smiles turn at the corners of his lips. You should kiss him again. You were alone, there's no cameras in the barracks, no one would know.

The elevator softly beeped and slid open the doors on your floor before you could push yourself forward towards him. He probably knew you were walking as slow as you possibly could to your door, you wanted to soak in these last moments with him before you threw yourself back into real life. At your room you turned to him before putting in your key code, embarrassed he might see that you changed it to his birthday.

“I really appreciate you having me out there. I had a really good time, Jack.” You sheepishly said as you faced him, you shouldn't call him by his first name. Not here.

“Thanks for coming.” He was standing close to you, that sickening blue jacket filling your vision. You leaned back on your door frame, taking one of his hands in both of yours. You were exhausted, eyes burning from being awake so long and joints begging to be stretched from sitting on the plane.

“Thank you for being so patient with me.” You said quietly, squeezing his fingers.

“Yeah, you're not always the easiest to work with.” He gave you a smug smile. “But it's worth it.” No, he wasn't smug, he was just smiling.

“Alright, enough of that, you cornball.” You said rolling your eyes with a small laugh at his gentle flirtations.

“Listen, I know the last few days have been…” He trailed off as he brought your hands up, placing soft kisses across your fingers. “A lot. I don't want to overwhelm you. As your commander, I think you should take the week with Blackwatch. I'm sure Gabe could use your help with something while I give you some space.”

“Thanks, Ja-Morrison.” You averted your gaze and stared down the hall away from him.

“You know you're always welcome in my office if you want to discuss work, or my room for anything else. Anytime.” He rolled his lips together, neck muscles tensing as you drew your hands away from him to your body. He wanted to say it. He wanted to tell you he loved you again and again, but this was neither the time nor the place. You brought him in a loose hug, pressing your body close to his, balling the fabric of the back of his jacket in your fists until you heard a door open down the hall and quickly snapped away from him back to your door.

Another captain was hurriedly adjusting their hat on top of their head, rushing out the door towards the elevators without a second glance to you, their morning just starting as yours was ending after an incredibly long flight.

“Get some sleep, you look exhausted.” He said, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. You turned, kissing his fingertip and hiding your keypad with your body while you opened your door.

“You too, I’ll talk to you soon." You said with a smile at him that you were trying to hold back. You offered him one last glance over your shoulder as you shut the door quietly behind you. You practically fell into your own bed as you listened to the retreating sounds of heavy footsteps and wheels rolling against linoleum.  

Before you fell asleep you sent out a mass message to your Blackwatch family.

_You [04:57:41]_  Back home to terrorize all of you! I’m going to sleep all day, if anyone comes knocking I can and will throw you down the stairs. Tnx love you GOODNIGHT!

* * *

 

Heavy clouds hung in the sky overhead light against the night sky, it was sure to start snowing soon. For a moment you thought perhaps it was still morning and you hadn't slept very long at all. You flipped over in your bed, Morrison’s SEP shirt twisting around your body as you reached for your phone. Jesus, fourteen hours you’ve been asleep? You were still exhausted. It was late into the night now, your sleeping schedule was going to be fucked up for a while. You wrapped up in your sheets and tried to wake yourself up by reading over the intel and mission reports that you should have been keeping up on while you were away but had let slip away from you.

Your stomach rumbled, rolling eyes stared at the drawer in your desk you normally kept food in, but it was emptied before you left on your mission. Commissary, you needed to go get food in your stomach. You stretched out of bed and smiled at the shirt around you before you brought it over your shoulders. You hesitated when you went to stuff it under your pillow like you normally did, running fingers across the cracked lettering. It still had the stink of the farm, desperately needing to be washed. It felt weird to leave it out in open, even after the time you spent with him at his house. You kissed the shirt and carefully slid it beneath your pillow. You dropped your bottoms, heading into the bathroom to finally wash off the stench of the plane and the last layer of dirt left on you from the trip.

In the mirror you got your first good look at the marks Morrison left you with. Hickeys scattered across your neck and your chest some even lingering down your abdomen, bruises the size of his fingertips on your hips over old scars. You’d never been more thankful the combat shirts were tight turtle necks rising to your jawline, otherwise you would have never been able to cover the dark spots in public.

As you stood in the shower you thought that you should go get Jesse before you went down to the commissary, he’s always down for a late night snack and you needed to tell him all about the trip. Something was making noise in your room while you were under the running water. Ding after ding after ding on your phone, you leaned out of the shower to make sure you weren’t just hearing things. You figured maybe someone was just sending you an update on a mission, you have been away for over a week now after all. The noises continued and you hurried out to put on running shorts and a ratty old cadet team shirt, dressing before you checked who it was.

Your phone snapped to the first message from an unknown number. A link to an article off of a cheap gossip website, “Heartthrob Overwatch Commander Returns To Hometown With X-Rated PDA-Filled Trip”.

Your heart sank as you opened it, knees giving out beneath you as you fell against your bed staring at the screen. Below the headline was a picture of Morrison and you, locked in a passionate kiss on his porch with his hand up your dress. You scrolled through the pictures and tried to catch your breath, tried to stop your heart from beating a million miles a minute as messages poured in.

_Unknown [19:14:10]_   is this a fucking joke?

_Unknown [19:14:15]_   do you not remember what he did to us?

_Unknown [19:14:21]_   HE KILLED THEM

_Unknown [19:15:30]_   i lost my fucking legs

_Unknown [19:15:51]_   i have nightmares every night BECAUSE OF HIM

_Unknown [19:16:14]_   and now i see this????

_Unknown [19:17:01]_   youre fucking disgusting

These photos weren’t taken by someone with their phone, by some kid who happened to just catch you on whim.

They were professional, zoomed in with extra clear sight that focused on how your mouth was open in a gasp, on the scars on your arm leading to a hand gripping his hair. Whoever took them was somewhere on the road outside the farmhouse, hidden by the brush on the sides of the field. You didn't even know there was paparazzi in Indiana.

Those stupid college kids, or that couple from the airport who saw you hugging, they must have posted something about it on some corner of the internet. That photographer must have been there to get boring pictures of the commander taking a break on his farm but instead they found _this._  

_Unknown [19:17:08]_   sick

_Unknown [19:17:09]_   how could you do that to us

_Unknown [19:18:18]_ you couldn’t have fucked anyone else at overwatch?

_Unknown [19:19:59]_   it had to be jack fucking morrison?????

You were feeling dizzy. Picture after picture, locked eyes and blushing faces. Of course she would have found out, you weren't exactly trying to be secret while you were there, but this you never expected. This was so violating, so humiliating.  

_Unknown [19:22:47]_   i had to start my life over 

_Unknown [19:22:59]_ i was finally doing okay

_Unknown [19:23:15]_ fuck you

_Unknown [19:23:18]_   fuck you

_Unknown [19:23:23]_   fuck you

_Unknown [19:23:26]_ fuck you

_Unknown [19:23:29]_   FUCK YOU

_Unknown [19:23:38]_   AND FUCK HIM TOO

There was a picture of your hands at the front of his pants, his mouth hanging open in front of yours, eyes looking into each others filled with love and lust.

_Unknown [19:25:18]_   i hope you get blown up just like Leskow did. you dont deserve this kind of happiness 

_Unknown [19:26:00]_ you must not remember us if your willing to do this shit

One of you smiling as your head was dropped back, Morrison’s hands wrapping your legs around him, mouth on your neck, his pants undone with hips pressed into you.

_Unknown [19:26:02]_   Karolina Leskow

One of him facing away from the camera, standing as he was buried inside of you. Your ankles hooked together around him and his strong arms flexing while carrying you to the front door.

_Unknown [19:26:03]_   Baxter Noremberg  

One of you partially obscured, laid against the floor of his front room with your wrists over your head and your back arched, dress pushed halfway up your body and panties misaligned, his foot about to kick the door behind him.

_Unknown [19:26:04]_   Hollie Lidell

It looked like bad soft core porn.  

_Unknown [19:26:05]_ KIRI FUCKING ARNTZ

As you zoomed past the pictures and tried to catch your breath, messages rang. One after another, your hands were shaking, your body hit with waves of nausea.

On and on it went, message after message after fucking message.

You read every single one, watched as a new one popped up, each meaner than the last, wishing injury and death and heartbreak.

With each ding from your phone a horrific buzzing grew in your ear drums, ringing until it was almost deafening, until you couldn’t focus. The room felt like it was getting smaller by the second. The walls were closing in. The window was about to burst and shatter into your skin. This phone was a bomb in your hands about to ignite and you needed to get out of this room. Right. Now.

So you ran. You threw your phone against your bed, hearing it tumble hard between the mattress and the wall, and you ran anywhere your feet would take you.

The halls weren’t making sense. You couldn’t recognize anything. You couldn’t read anything, it felt like you were in a nightmare and you couldn’t breathe. You were sweating and your stomach kept trying to launch itself from your throat. Your blurred eyes focused on the bright yellow of a cleaning cart and before you could stop yourself your body was practically leaning all the way in it as you emptied everything in you to the point where you were just pushing out stomach bile.

Everything hurt. You were shaking. Your skin felt like it was on fire, you were sweating but freezing from the cold air. You pushed open a door and found yourself stumbling into a stairwell, unable to figure out which floor you were on. You tried to muffle your cries into your arm, but the guttural whines your throat was making were loud and couldn't be stopped.

Arntz was right. She was so fucking right, you were disgusting, and a monster, and everyone would be rolling in their graves cursing your name if they knew you were kissing the enemy, if they knew you were spending your nights sucking off a man who ordered their murder. You were doubting him, yourself, every interaction. Did he love you? Or was he a man sick with guilt about what he did to you and misunderstanding his emotions as love? A man like Morrison couldn’t be capable of love. A monster, like Morrison, couldn’t be capable of feeling the things you felt. The hurt and the pain and the fear and-    

“My, look at the state of you. Another nightmare?” Moira's voice drew next to you. This wasn’t a nightmare. It was real, it was all so fucking real and there was no way to run from it. As you turned your head to face her, she circled around getting a full look at you, at how your eyes welled with tears and your hand clamped to your face covering a sobbing mouth.

“Moira-” You choked out.

“There, there. Don't cry, you're a soldier aren't you?” She lifted your face and you couldn't stop the jumping in your throat, the snot from your nose, or the waterworks from flowing. You had made so much progress, prepared yourself for so much but you've never felt weaker. All the work you've done for months, at this moment it felt like it was worth nothing, your house of cards that you'd glued together came toppling down with the breath of a screaming team mate. If the help you had up to this point didn't take, maybe your only option was Moira. She did say she wanted to help you after your nightmare on the mission. She called you her friend. Was Moira your friend?   

“I don't want to feel this way-” You begged through hard sobs. “I just- I can’t- I can't- Dr. O'Deorain please- help me- I can't breathe!” You gasped out clutching your chest. “I think- I think I'm dying-” Your heart was pounding so hard you almost couldn't hear your uncontrollable crying anymore. Everything felt tight, your chest, your skin, your throat.

“You don't want to feel this way anymore?” She asked, leaning towards your face with interest.

“Please-” You'd be so embarrassed about how you looked, how you were acting, if you could think straight. “I don't want to feel this, I don't- I don't want to feel anything-” You almost dropped to the floor, her arms catching you before you could hit. “It hurts- it hurts- it hurts- I hate this-”  

“I may have something that can help you.” You sucked in a heavy breath as you looked to her. Anything is better than how you're feeling right now. “But it's untested.”

“Please! I can’t handle this. I-I’m scared. Fuck! How- how- how could I do this to them? How- how could I be so- so- stupid?” You asked to yourself as you pressed your hands against your swelling wet cheeks. Your stomach hurt from being so empty, from clenching for so long, chest feeling like it was ripping you apart from the inside out.  

She smoothed the hair on your head, looking at you with soft eyes that almost scared you. With your quick shallow breaths and begs to not feel like this anymore, Moira whisked you away under a tucked arm to her room in the Blackwatch halls. She dimmed her lights and rummaged through a safe hidden in her cabinets while you buried your face against a pillow on her small couch and screamed out ugly sobs.

You didn't look up until there was a stinging prick of a needle at your neck and a sudden rush of cold through your veins. You stared at her with wide watery eyes briefly wondering what the hell you actually just asked for. 

Your body was slowly trembling less, the feeling of absolute panic subsiding to numb clam as she watched you, checking your eyes with a thin light, moving your chin from side to side. Your tears were drying on your skin, throat opening once again to let in deep breaths.  

“Are you my friend, Moira?” You said through final moments of your chest shuddering from the end of sobs. She was always so stoic, treating you gently, but always watching you. Always making small hand written notes in a journal she kept close to her person. Your head started feeling light.

“Your friend, and your doctor.” She lifted your chin to look directly at her. “You are my perfect test subject, just in the right state of mind for this. It will be magnificent. You're going to help me discover wonderful new things about the project I've been working on.” She was leaned in front of you, her loose button up opened enough for you to see down her shirt and for you to think you were blushing, but unable to feel it.

“Project?” You dropped your head back letting your neck roll, eyes heavy.

"A cure. An improvement on the child's play that was the American soldier enhancement program." Her words were starting to sound more like you were hearing them through a fishbowl. 

“A cure for what?”

“For humanity, dear.”

Your eyes closed, body giving in to the sedative aspect of whatever it was she injected you with.

Like this, you didn't have to think about the pictures. Or Arntz probably still sending you messages about how you deserved to die for bedding the man who fucked up her life beyond repair. Or the idea of Morrison accidentally confessing his love for you. Or the fear of explaining any of this to Jesse.  

* * *

 

Everything felt like you were in a haze, you felt like you could move from where you sat, but you didn't want to get up. You didn't want anything. Moira would disappear for seconds or minutes or hours at a time, you couldn't quite tell the difference between moments in time. 

When you started groaning from the pain of experiencing your emotions coming back to you again, she would carefully move your head to stretch your neck, injecting a serum into your vein. Sometimes it was clear, sometimes yellow or purple or black. Whatever it was it made you not worry, not think about the pictures or about Morrison or the minefield. After each injection Moira would feel your pulse, study the visible veins under your skin.

Sometimes you'd hear her behind you on the phone, or the sounds of glass clicking together as she made herself dinner. Occasionally Moira would unwrap protein bars and place them in your hands, taking notes as you examined the surface with blank eyes before you ate it. She’d hand you cups of water and watch as you tipped your head back and drink the whole thing in one go. You'd stare straight ahead, not moving, not speaking, not even thinking unless she interacted with you. Sometimes your eyes would follow her through the room, lagging just a little behind her movements. You could see your veins in your skin, especially on your hands, darker than you'd ever seen them before and running beneath in patterns like honeycombs and you'd be mesmerized as you looked at them, turning your hand over and over in front of your face. 

“Tell me, how are you feeling?” Said Moira's voice sounding far away but her face directly in front of you. Sun was coming through her window and you weren't quite sure how long you'd been there. You hesitated to answer her, eyes drifting through the room unable to focus on anything, your head felt like it was flying above your body and your skin tingled.

“I don’t feel anything.” You finally turned your head to her, expressionless.

“Good.” She smiled back at you and you didn’t care if it was genuine or not.

“I know I should feel something.” You rolled your head to look back up at the ceiling. 

“And what do you know you should be feeling?”

“Sad. I think. Or maybe pain.” You hadn't forgotten about what you were running from, the issues you'd have to eventually face weighed heavy in the back of your skull but your mind refused to wander to them. 

“Why would you feel sadness?”

“Because I've fallen in love with the man who did this to me.” You thought you lifted your arm, but your limbs felt too heavy, instead your gaze just focused on the burn marks of your forearm.

“Commander Morrison did this to you?”

“He’s a monster.” You responded, with no expression, no emotion, just a fact.

"That he is. Come along, I think it's about time we've washed these clothes, you're starting to stink up my room." 

She had you shower. Her eyes examining the hickeys and burns and scars across your body. She'd seen the ones on your arms before, but not the ones on your midsection and when she did she quickly wrote something down in her notes, taking care to underline words hard before she grabbed your clothes and washed them.

You sat on the edge of her tub wrapped in a towel and stared straight ahead as you waited for her to finish. You almost smiled, almost, when you thought that this must be what friends do. Help each other and take care of each other. You were helping Moira with something important it seemed like. Moira said she was your friend. Moira made sure you didn’t have to feel the guilt that made you vomit in the hallway. Moira kept you safe. Moira helped you back into your clothes, your body and towel already long since dry. She wrote down something in a notepad she brought with her then helped you to your seat back on her couch.

“Is this the test you wanted to run on Overwatch agents?” You asked her as you dropped to the cushions.

“Among other things, yes.” Her cold hand turned to feel your forehead and her face bunched in disgust. “I think you’re getting a fever. Are you feeling anything?”

“Nothing.”

“Wonderful.” She scribbled in the notepad again. “I'm going to run to the lab to get something to cool you down.”

And she was gone, or you think she left after she said that. When she moved it always looked like a blur through the room, like her body carried a ghost of itself behind it that your eyes would try to follow but could never keep up with.   

You weren't sure when but it seemed to be nighttime again. You knew your body was hungry, that you’ve been living off protein bars and blood altering chemicals and needed something more. How long you'd been like this was a mystery, an endless loop of you spaced out on her couch. You didn’t know how long you were there, how long she had been looking after you, more than a day at least, you guessed. You knew you should care, people are probably looking for you wondering where you are, but you couldn’t bring yourself to give it anything more than a passing thought.

Your mind was telling you something. What did your body want? You stumbled to her kitchen, rummaged through Moira's fridge and cabinets, finding nothing that peaked your interest.

Hot chocolate.

You wanted Reyes’s hot chocolate, the one with the cinnamon and almonds in it that he made from scratch when you'd have nightmares.

What time was it? Would he even be in his room right now? Your brain couldn't muster the energy to read the clock, but Moira's windows were dark and you think that meant he'd be there.

Whatever. It didn’t matter anyway, even if he's not there you could probably figure out how to make it on your own. 

* * *

 

It must have been a while that you stood at the end of the hall trying to remember Reyes’s key code. You tried to think back to the time you saw him write it down on a sticky note, disgruntled because he fat fingered the buttons and accidentally reset it. What was it again?

A dull pain was starting at the base of your neck, pain that felt like static that buzzed into your skull. You punched in the only numbers that came to mind. When the door opened you knew you should feel surprised, or cocky that you remembered it, but you couldn't find it in you to care.

Reyes was spread with his  legs wide across his couch, staring down at his phone in one hand, a half empty bottle of whiskey in the other and dressed only in his boxers, clearly not expecting anyone tonight. When the door snapped shut behind you and his eyes flashed to your figure, he jumped out of his seat, spilling the drink onto his cushions.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” He ran to you, picking you up and spinning you tight in his arms. His face twisted between worry and relief. When he lowered you, it looked like he might cry and he cupped your cheek. “What happened? Jack said you were at legal, is that were you've been?” The scars on his face looked deeper than usual, lines of age sinking into his skin. His breath stunk of alcohol, but you realized when he touched you his body was so, so, warm.

“Can I-” Ugh, your head. “Have some hot chocolate?”

“I need to call Jesse, he's been a mess-” He took his hand from you, moving to start scrolling through his contacts.

"No-" 

"No? Does Jack not-" 

Hearing his name made your face curl in anger. You slapped the phone out of his hand to the ground and it landed with a loud thud, he looked to you in shock.

“I just want the hot chocolate.”

Your eyes were wandering over his body, with no attempt to even hide it. You've almost exclusively seen him hidden under that dumb green sweatshirt. He was rippled with muscles, with hard v leading down into his waistband. He was taking you in too, his eyes wandered over your chest reading where it said 'CADET' in small font in one corner, then down to your exposed legs with running shorts riding high on your thighs. You brought your hand to your cheek to check if you were blushing. It was warm, but then again Moira said you had a fever. You could see his throat bob with a hard swallow.

“You don't get to disappear for days then act like this-”   

Oh. You did feel something. Annoyed.

“Shut up Reyes.”

He drew back, look of confusion written across him as if he was trying to figure out if you were really talking to him this way or if he was just way drunker than he thought he was.

“You can’t talk to me like that-” He said as he leaned towards you with eyebrows pulling together.

Ugh, he sounded like Morrison and that made your chest hurt.

You had a gut reaction and shoved his shoulders, sending him backwards to the floor. He watched with bewildered wide eyes as you dropped to the floor with him and crawled on top of him until you were spread over his lap. The thought of Morrison was burning deep anger and need in your belly, but something about it mixed your emotions up as you looked at Reyes.

His hands hovered on either side of you, his body shaking and mouth open trying to say something but too shocked to. Your eyes wandered over his face, recognizing Reyes as the person you were on top of, but drugged mind convincing you the way he was talking and the way he was acting, it was distinctly Morrison’s qualities. You let all your weight fall to your center grinding against him, your hips pressed to his as you felt his cock twitching to life between your bodies. With a frenzied string of Spanish curses he gritted his teeth.

“What-” He sounded like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. “What are you doing?” Fingertips gently pressed against your lower back, scared to touch you any more than that. “Did Jack do something to you?”

You scoffed.

“Morrison did _this_ to me.” You crossed your arms over yourself lifting your shirt to throw it across the room, letting Reyes once again get a good look at your scars. His eyes fell immediately to your exposed chest, this time was bit more intense for him than the last time you drunkenly unclothed. His gaze darted across the fading hickeys Morrison left on your skin.

Wisps of what looked like smoke slowly expelled from his skin into the air around you. He sat up with fury flashing in his eyes. His boxers were so tight against you, grinding your hips down again you hoped he would moan how Morrison did, but instead his hand shot up and grabbed your neck with a growl. He didn't put pressure on it, didn't crush you, just held. His body was betraying him.

You smiled. Alright,  _now_ your heart was racing, now you were feeling something. The feeling of his touch on your skin was making your fingertips tingle and your toes curl, but left your stomach aching with pangs of guilt.

“What is wrong with you?” His eyes locked in on yours, your pupils were almost nonexistent in the reflection of his, just pin pricks in the center. Your forehead was beading with sweat and your skin had a horrible cool undertone.

“He killed my team Reyes, did you know that? He gave me these scars because he told us to march into an active minefield. This one is from a ball of nails that tore through my arm. This one from the glass on the windows-” Your words came out with strained laughs, mind getting distracted as you reminded yourself of the marks Morrison left you with. Your hips squirmed against the feeling of his warm skin radiating between your legs.

His eyes were wide, breathing hitching.

“And these ones he gave me when he told me he loved me.” You pointed lazily at the hickeys.

“I don't want to hear this-”

“He's always going to win, isn't he? They forced the drop crew to lie for him, isn't that something? They all signed a document saying I caused the explosion and everything. Overwatch will do anything to protect their poster boy. I’ll go to prison for telling you all this you know, for breaking that stupid fucking contract.” You tried to push the hair out of your eyes, but your head was bobbing heavy above your neck. Your heart knew you shouldn’t be saying these things, but your words were just pouring out, unfiltered and unstoppable.

“Don’t-” He gasped as you leaned forward, stretching your neck over his grip and placing unfocused kisses against the skin of his shoulders. What would Morrison want you to do to him if you had him like this? You grazed the edges of your teeth on him, little bites as your lips wandered up to his jaw, your heavy eyelids fluttering as you opened them to watch his reaction, hoping to see blond hair and blue eyes staring back at you.

“Are you _high?”_ He was intently focused on your eyes, on the way you couldn’t keep your line of sight straight and the way you were running your mouth. Maybe you were high. You don’t know if that’s exactly how you would classify what you felt. Numb, was a better term.

“Aren't you tired of seeing him win?”

“If you tell me Jack had anything to do with you disappearing I'll go up there and kill him myself-”

“Tired of seeing the public adore him?”

“You need to tell me where you've actually been the last-”

You ran your hands over his shoulders, breaking the smoke off him for only a moment.

“Are you on fire?” Your head swayed as your eyes tried to follow the trails leading up. You must be imagining things. The smoke reminded you so much of the forest fire, you could almost remember the smell. His hand squeezed you, cutting off your breathing under his strong grip for a moment before you gasped out with a sick smile.

“Answer me. Where have you been?”

“Don’t you want to do something that will _really_ hurt him, Gabriel?” Your voice was strained as you pressed your hips hard against him. His chest expanded with a hard breath at the sound of his name leaving your mouth. You dragged your nails across his skin through the smoke and moved in small circles in his lap as he shuddered. The hand at your throat shook, his thumb started rubbing against your skin in some twisted version of comfort. The whites of his eyes were darkening on the edges, grip slowly tightening around you. 

Morrison could be rough, but he never made you think he'd crush your throat in. Reyes’s fingers were so strong, digging into the sides of your neck. You placed a hand over the commanders, gently and silently telling him he was holding you too hard. He gasped to himself and said something, but you couldn’t tell if it was English, or Spanish, or just a deep guttural noise. He looked scared but he wasn't letting go.

Your head was pounding, vision to your sides slowly blurring. You were getting confused, mind mixing up whose room you were in and where you were. Where was Moira, was she looking for you? You came here for hot chocolate, but you're straddled over someone's lap. This looked like Reyes, but he was acting like Morrison and his skin was smoking.

This had to be a dream, you had to be having a nightmare.

You reached behind you to his hand at your back and wrapped your fingers around it, bringing it to your face, taking his pointer and middle fingers carefully into your mouth. Morrison liked it when you did that. It made him blush and smile. But the man in front of you, his only reaction was to loosen his grip at your throat, unsure hand still resting against it but eyes focusing on the way your lips looked as they wrapped around his fingers.   

“You shouldn't be doing this-” He grunted.

“Jack's my friend-” His hips snapped up into yours. Expression pointed and angry, the cock you pressed against twitched and swelled with every suck, every sloppy twirl of your tongue around his digits. His breathing was becoming more rapid by the second. He ripped his fingers from your lips.

“I can't do this to him, I can't do this to you-” Who was he trying to convince? He dropped the hand over your chest, squeezing, roughly pressing fingertips to your nipple. His face was spotted with pink, mouth hanging open but eyes flickering between rage and pain. 

“I need to know what happened to you!” The fingers at your neck tightened, so, so, much harder than before.

His other hand joined at your neck, circling it completely, thumbs pressing into the center with a pressure that made you dizzy.  

One.

“Just tell me where you were-” He cried out.

Two.

You tried to think but the ringing in your ears as back, how long before you started smelling the smoke of the forest fire?   

Three.

Your heart was racing. Everything was hitting you, overwhelming fear flooding your body. No, no Reyes. What was happening to him? Why didn't he tell you about this smoke before? Questions swirled through your brain. 

Four.

You were freezing cold and every muscle ached like it was sore. This hurt. Not like a cut, or a burn, but hurt deep in your core, a crushing that scared you not just because of the hand at your throat, but how easy this seemed for him.

Five.

“Just tell me if Jack hurt you!” He begged.  

Six.

He couldn't see through his own rage, unable to try to work this out logically. Through the fear in his own eyes he couldn't see that he wasn’t giving you a chance to speak.

Seven.

Reyes was a super soldier, surely he knows how much pressure it took to kill someone?

Eight.

Your vision was going out, you could smell the whiskey from every breath. Maybe this was what you wanted. Maybe this was way you got back at Morrison. The ultimate revenge you yourself couldn’t have even planned out, to die at the hands of his best friend within days of a profession of love, now wouldn’t that be something.  

Nine.

The smoke at his shoulders was getting thicker and you couldn’t feel your legs anymore. Dammit Reyes, you should have pressed him more before you left on that mission. He wasn't fine. His eyes looked like they changed color for a moment, the black slowly closing in on his irises and you saw a flash of something behind them. A flash of a scared man realizing what he was doing far too late.  

Ten.

With the only strength you could manage, you lifted your hand and landed your fingertips against the thick mustache above his mouth not quite sure what you were actually aiming for. Everything blurred, but you weren't sure if it was because of him or because of tears dropping from your eyes. As your body lost consciousness your fingers dragged down his lips, feeling the hot sharp breaths pushing out. The freezing darkness that swallowed your mind felt like the same unconsciousness you fell to in the forest. It was so familiar, and it was in a sick way, comforting.

* * *

 

Reyes scrambled away from you after your body went limp in his hands. He was shaking uncontrollably.

His phone. He needed his phone, he needed to call someone, needed to get you help. Your neck was already bruising, your chest rising and falling with struggled breaths.

The screen of his phone was shattered from when you knocked it from his hand, glass scattered across his hard floor and unusable. He started hyperventilating, thoughts consuming him that he’d never be able to live with himself now. The smoke around him was darkening the room, making him feel sick. There was knocking at his door, Moira’s voice calling out to him before she slid it open with a loud smack.

The wind from the door opening dissipated the smoke in the area for only a moment before settling back in the room.

“Gabriel, what have you done?” She asked, horrified.

You were fluttering your eyes open from brief unconsciousness, groggy and clearly gasping in pain. Moira knelt in front of Reyes, slapping him hard across the cheek and his eyes snapped to her.

“Whatever happened here, we’re going to take care of it, _discreetly.”_

Reyes shook his head. No, this can’t be a secret, you needed to get to the medical wing, he needed report himself to the directors, he was terrified of how easily he gave into the stomach wrenching urge he had to see life flicker before him.  

“Do you understand what this looks like? You’re unstable, mentally and physically. She has drugs in her system, Gabriel. Ones I’ve given her. She's been missing for days, and I find her in your room strangled and topless? If we don’t keep this between us then I will never complete the _research_ you hired me for.”

“You gave her-?”

“Focus. Put on your clothes, go to bed, take some deep breaths. Brush your teeth for christ's sake.” She was taking vials out of her pockets, checking the names on the top and huffing when she wasn’t grabbing the right one. “I’m going to clean up your mess. You never saw her.”

“Moira-”

“If I can’t complete my research your body will be too unpredictable to function, do you understand?” She lifted your hand, injecting something into the skin beneath your fingernail, your throat making a scratchy groan escape through your lips.

“What are you giving her?” His voice was shaky.

“Go to bed. I’m taking care of this.” She grabbed your shirt from the ground, covering your body once again. Her hair hung forward over her forehead, mismatched eyes glaring at him as she cradled you in her lap and ran her fingers over the bruising on your neck. Reyes backed up, hand over his mouth as he almost sprinted to the bathroom with trails of black behind him.

You were regaining consciousness but the room was spinning and you weren’t sure what you were looking at. Cold hands held you, comforted you, then helped you stand and stumble out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Edit: Fuckmyrighteye has done it again with more fanart ;-; THANK YOOOU it's wonderful <3 [From fuckmyrighteye <3 ](https://hostilewitness-ao3.tumblr.com/post/181202186249/sorry-if-this-is-annoying-but-i-had-to-draw-that#notes)  
> 


	17. Silenced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's count the ways you can silence someone, shall we?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the last few chapters have been intense! So take a deep breath, it'll be okay! Oh wait... what's that? Reyes strangled you? Oh...
> 
> ( ͡o ͜ʖ ͡o)

You’d never complain about a sore throat again. This was so much worse. It felt like hands were still around your neck, thumbs still crushing into your windpipes. It hurt to breathe, even through your nose. The skin of your neck was a sickly deep blue mixed with purples and greens that circled it like a permanent turtle neck.

Sunrise was peeking through windows, golden tints of yellow beaming and bouncing off the shiny medical bed. You looked dead eyed ahead as Genji stood guard at your door. He found you hours ago, crumpled into a ball, leaned against the barracks outside in the snow. As soon as you exited Reyes’s room under Moira's arm, you used all the strength in you to push her to the ground and get as far from her as possible. Your head at the time was pounding, too many emotions hitting you at once to turn around and even check if she was chasing you. You were still groggy when Genji’s voice was laced with panic, grunting as he picked up your weakened body begging to find out who did this to you. You just stayed silent, unable to bring yourself to tell him as you just held your throat with fingers over the massive forming bruise.

He refused to leave you alone, he carried you to the medical building with your head heavy against his human shoulder, his calm but deadly voice demanding help from Dr. Ziegler to treat you. The rage Genji was containing inside him was unlike anything you’d ever seen him control before. If anyone came near you that he didn’t trust, you had no doubt they were going to get a sword through them.

Face plate on and lowered, his red eyes burned with an intensity you’d never seen before, he kept his palm against the handle of his blade every moment someone walked by. He watched with burning eyes as the nurses set you up with bio emitters, cold packs and medication for the pain and swelling. It hurt to breathe, but you _were_ breathing, and they needed to keep you monitored until the doctor could get in to see you.

As soon as you were settled into the medical wing bed, with a low sharp voice Genji told you that Jesse would be back on the base soon, that as soon as he found out you were missing he abandoned the recon mission he was on and caught a flight home. He turned to guard your door and glare at every passerby. You hated just staring at his back like this. You wished Genji would at least sit on the bed with you. At least hold your hand or offer you some sense of comfort, but you knew you weren’t going to get that, not from him. He was so worried, filling in the gaps with his own theories, terrified a nameless agent from some terrible shadowy organization was going to pop out to get you. 

Oh Genji, if only he knew.

You wished you didn’t know. You wished you woke up with amnesia like they do in old movies, or even with foggy bits of days that could give you plausible deniability of what happened to you.

Did you think you’d be that lucky?

Lucky enough to be able to forget, to not have to know the harsh truth of accepting mind altering drugs so you didn't have to face reality? To ignore your stomach dropping with pure lust as Reyes wrapped his hand around your neck? You’d give anything to be living in ignorant bliss. You didn't want to remember how dark the room was as Reyes seemed to be consumed by fear. Instead, you laid in a bed of the hospital wing exclusively used for Blackwatch agents turning your hands over in front of you again, looking for the deep veins just beneath the surface of the skin, but not seeing any.

While you focused on your hands you heard a low heated argument just outside your door until it closed with a loud click, Genji resigned with angry growls to being in the hallway on the other side. You shifted in your bed taking in a deep shaky breath as the doctor approached.

“How are you feeling?”

Shitty. Fuck you.

Moira held the backs of her fingers to your forehead, running along the side of your face then back up to smooth out your hair.

“I am not here to hurt you. I’m having the nurses monitor you for any changes in brain activity or heart rate. There’s a serious danger your airways could collapse and cut off oxygen if you exert yourself. I’m here to help you.”

You shook your head no. No, you didn’t want her help anymore. Her help scared you. Feeling nothing felt good, it felt _so_ good, but if these were the consequences, you couldn’t do it again.

“You do not need to fear me. My observations on you have helped far more than you realize. Please understand-” She sat on the bed next to your hip, hand still running through your hair. “The events from last night were unfortunate side effects of my tests. It was the perfect storm for you two, and I… I never intended for this.” Her fingers dropped to your neck, tips pressing lightly against the bruising making you sharply pull away from her with a struggled cough. You'd never heard her be so candidly emotional. 

You roughly grabbed her hand, throwing it away from you, your face squeezed in anger.

“I can see you’re still upset. It’s understandable. If I was in your position, truly, I would not trust me either. However, I need you to listen and prepare yourself. Gabriel will be here in a few moments and the three of us will be discussing how we’re moving forward from this little incident.”

No. No. You can’t see him, not now.

“Before he gets here, there’s something you should know. Everything I gave you, it was to help him.” Her mismatched eyes shifted to the door. “I think you could see for yourself that the commander is falling apart. Part of my research with Blackwatch is repairing his genetic structure and everything I’m doing is unsanctioned by Overwatch. If this gets out, not only are we out of jobs, but Reyes will not have long to live.”

White hot panic blinded you for a moment as the door opened again, this time without any arguments from Genji. Your body shivered with fear and nostrils flared as you laid eyes on Reyes entering and avoiding your wide eyes. Moira turned to face him, observing his quiet and rigid stance as he waited by the door.

“Out, Moira.” His beanie was low over his forehead, voice frighteningly serious.

“I’m not leaving you alone-”

“Out!” He shouted, pounding a balled fist so hard against the door frame that you felt it through the bed. Genji unsheathed his sword, eyeing both of them suspiciously, ready for a word to attack.

Moira’s beaded eyes paused in suppressed anger, her nails digging into her palm next to your leg before she stood as straight as she could, tall over Reyes.

“I’m coming back, fifteen minutes.” Her voice was low next to him.

You shook as you watched her leave, every heavy breath pushing from your lungs sending a burning pain through your throat. He turned and looked at you with eyes that made you so sad he may has well have stabbed fish hooks in your heart and ripped it out of your chest. They were completely bloodshot, bright veins popping against them. You’d never seen the rings around his eyes look quite this dark before.   

“Jack’s been in meetings since they found you, he looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown when I went to his office.” You don’t want to hear this. You don’t want to hear how Morrison is doing or what kind of trouble this is getting him in, you already felt shitty enough.

“Between losing an agent and those pictures of you two getting out, it sounds like they’re actually going to fire him this time. He’s never fucked up this bad.”

Your heart sank to the floor, your body felt like it was filled with rocks trying to pull you down into the ground until you couldn’t get back up. You pushed hard loud breaths out of your nose, your neck straining as Reyes gripped the end of the bed enough to put a small dent in it and stared at the floor.

“I thought he did something to you. I really did.” He was talking through gritted teeth.

You were trying to push your body away from him as he got closer. His glossy eyes focused at the bruise on your neck.

“I had to convince him to stay there. He wanted to come see you, wanted to make sure you were okay. I… I told him I’d check in on you.” He sat on the edge of the bed, fingers lingering next to your knee and slowly rising until he gently squeezed it, making you squirm.

“Why did you let Moira give you that shit?” His voice was breaking. “She said you were panicking, begging her to make whatever you were feeling stop.” He reached out towards you, hand going to touch your neck but retracting quickly when he saw you panicked trying to get away from him. “I’ve seen you upset before. Why wouldn’t you just come to me? I know how to help you through those attacks, I would have-” He was gripping into the blanket at your ankles. “This could have never happened. It never had to be like this.”    

You tried to make a screaming noise at him, but it just came out as a hard whine from your chest. He pulled off his beanie, running his hands hard over a shaved head, he must have buzzed off his curls sometime last night. 

“This isn’t fair to you.” God, he looked so tired. He clearly didn't get any sleep. “It’s not fair, but you can’t tell anyone. Not Jack, not Jesse or Genji. Not about what… what I did to you. Not about what you think you saw, or Moira, or the drugs. Nothing.” His voice deep, stern in the same way it was the night he made you run in the rain.

You shook your head no, wide eyes trying to plead with him. Your throat was making whining scratchy sounds, vocal chords aching with the reverberations as you tried to scream your words at him.

“I’m sorry. I need you to listen to me, even though I know you don't want to. What happened was a mistake. That’s what Moira is helping me with. I couldn’t-” He looked to his palms, holding them out in front of him. “I couldn’t stop myself.”

You tried to hum his name to get his attention but it came out as clicks of noises catching between breaths.

“If you’re scared of me now, I understand.” He pulled at his facial hair, distressed eyes refusing to look at you, instead focusing their sights out the window. “And I don’t want to do this, I really don’t want to.” He was trying to work himself up to say something else, his foot tapping rapidly against the ground as he bounced his leg. “But I need you to understand that when I say you can’t tell anyone, I mean it. If you talk, I’ll have to go to the legal team. _Dammit.”_ He ran his hand over his face, against his strained eyes. He looked like he was in pain. “I’ll tell them that you broke your contract and that you told me about their cover up job. Shit. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, this is the only way.”

What the fuck, Reyes? As if the physical damage wasn't enough, you’d go to prison if he told.

Morrison. You’d lose Morrison forever. Your stomach clenched, at first you thought with sickness from the memory of how awful Artntz’s messages were and how guilty you felt for getting close to Morrison, but it was more than that. Your body had a physical twitching reaction to the thought of never seeing him again. Of him hating you for running from your problems, running from him. You didn’t want to imagine your life without him, without his arms wrapped around you and his lips against you skin. You shouldn’t feel this way. He’s a monster.

Reyes is a monster.    

You grabbed the screen at your bedside, the one with your medical charts, and as hard as you could you threw it at him hitting him square in the nose then clattering to the floor. Maybe he couldn’t understand your words, but he sure as hell could understand two strong middle fingers directly at him when he looked back up at you.

“Listen to me!” He growled, with blood streaming from his nostrils. Reyes darted to directly in front of you, grabbing you hard by the shoulders and forcing you to look at his face, at the expression of a man who looked like he himself was about to breakdown. In an act of defiance, or maybe just to make him feel worse than he already did, you grabbed his wrists and slid his hands up your shoulders until they cupped your neck.

Look at it, Reyes. Look at what you did.

Clenching your jaw and shivering under his touch you stared at him with raging eyes. His face twisted like he was going to be sick, eyes wide accentuating the dark circles and thumbs rubbing lightly over your bruised skin. Your neck muscles flinched with the touch, part of you afraid he may take the opportunity to finish what he started, another more fucked up part of you still trusting him with your life.

“I know.” He was almost whispering as his fingers shook against your skin. “I'm so sorry.” He didn't seem to care about the blood soaking into his facial hair, blood streaming down his lips and into his mouth, blood dripping onto the blanket covering your lap.   

“When you have your voice back, I'll make you that hot chocolate. I'll explain everything to you and you can ask me as many questions as you need.” You stared back at Reyes, an empty gaze that made him look away from you in shame. “For now, please, I just need your loyalty. I need to know you won't tell anyone about this.”

More secrets. Threats, blackmail, more suffering. Somehow this hurt so, so, much worse than recovering from the explosion.

“Please.” He breathed out, moving his hands up to cup your jaw. “If you don’t agree, I’ll have to make Moira-”

You reached up, covering his mouth with your hand, blood from his nose leaking onto your knuckles and lacing between your fingers. Don’t finish that sentence. You don’t want to know what he’ll make Moira do, what lengths he’d go to for your silence.

Against everything in your body telling you not to, you nodded your head. Small movements that almost felt like you weren’t even moving, but you saw the relief wash over his face, saw his shoulders drop as he took a deep shaky breath.

“Thank you.” He said muffled behind your fingers still. He brought his hand up and squeezed you gently, eyes unfocused and staring off with glimmers of sadness behind them as he whispered your name.

The door clicked open, Genji’s furious red eyes pointed in and you could see the confusion through the gap of his face plate seeing Reyes cradling your bloody hand in his, with the lower half of his face smeared in dark red. Moira appeared in the widening door and Reyes nodded to her grimly.

“I’d appreciate you not upsetting my patient, commander.” Moira held her head tall as she waved Genji out of the way and snapped the door behind her. “Now, has everything been sorted out properly in here?”

“She understands.” He said low, pulling his beanie back over his head and reaching for tissues on a nearby counter. Moira turned to you with an eyebrow raised and you nodded your head solemnly.

“Well then, let’s discuss this so we’re all on the same page.” Her voice was short, annoyed almost, that she was having to deal with this.

Reyes stayed quiet, tending to remnants of a bloody nose as Moira made every detail of your story clear to you. You were to fill out the incident report indicating you remember nothing. That you fell asleep in your room after coming back from a long trip and woke up outside the practice range. Be as vague as possible, she told you. No mention of dark figures, or theories of double agents. Let the incident team fill in the gaps for you.

“Please understand, we’re doing this because we need to, not because we want to.” Her stone voice said as she looked at the screen of the broken medical chart. “And your efforts with me were not wasted, what I learned from observing you is immensely valuable to the research I’ve done and you have added years, possibly decades onto Gabriel’s life because of it.”   

You looked to your lap and dug in your cuticles as she drilled this into you, flickering glances to Reyes who leaned against the wall with the tissue to his face. Was it helping Reyes? He’s never looked worse and he has to know that.

“I just need more time to perfect it. Thank you for being such a wonderful test subject, you’re welcome back in my lab anytime.”

A noise caught in your throat that made you cough uncontrollably, sears of pain flashing through your body as you felt your vocal cord restricting with the coughs. Moira adjusted the bio emitter next to your saline drip.

“We should let you get some rest. If we do not have any unforeseen circumstances, I believe we should see some improvement over the next couple days.” She turned to leave the room, Reyes grunted as he pushed himself from the wall and wiped the last of the blood from his face.

“Jesse will be back in tonight, I’m sure he’ll come see you as soon as he lands.” His voice was wavering. ‘Please don’t tell him I tried to kill you’, you imagined him tacking on at the end of that. Reyes was physically stronger than Jesse, but you had no doubt Jesse would be pointblank with his PeaceMaker if he knew.

The two of them exited one after the other and Genji appeared at your door again, leaving it open and staring in at you. His head followed them as they left the hall and disappeared around a corner and he finally turned in to speak to you.

“Are you doing okay?” His hand was still gripping his weapon.

You nodded, but you saw the way he eyed you. You couldn’t face him, couldn’t lie to him, so you turned on your side, facing towards the window and the sun rising into a muted blue sky.

Close your eyes. Don’t think about Genji. Don’t think about Reyes or his hands around your throat. Don’t think Moira and the way she smiled at you or how feeling absolutely nothing felt _so good._ Don’t think about Morrison. Don’t think Morrison or his laugh or gasped ‘I love you’ from the farm. Don’t think about how the only person you want with you right now is him, or how that made you feel like you were going to be sick. Don’t think.

Just sleep.                     

* * *

Over Genji’s shoulder, an evening entertainment talk show was playing quietly in the hallway, people who considered themselves experts sat at tables in front of cameras and spoke as you saw a picture of you and Morrison pop up on the screen. Your body broke out in a cold sweat, fear rushing through you but pain medication keeping your heart rate down. The room was dark now, and Genji’s red lights shined brightly against the soft white spilling in from the hall.    

“Frankly, it’s an obvious case of invasion of privacy on the photographers part, I mean who does that? Just let the man have a private life-”

“He gave up the right to a private life when he became the face of Overwatch-”

“That doesn’t mean he has to be celibate.” A host laughed.

“Well it certainly means he shouldn’t have been sleeping with an agent on his own team-”

“They’re two consenting adults-”

“Sorry to interrupt you two, but I’m getting word we may have breaking news regarding Overwatch-”

“God, what’s next, did Jack Morrison make a porno with this poor woman?” Another host sarcastically replied.   

Phones all across the halls started ringing. Phones at the nurses station, phones in their pockets, phones in the rooms of other agents, Genji’s phone dinged loudly with the notification of an urgent message.

“No there’s-” One of the hosts was reading from a tablet above his lap. Out in the hall you heard people gasping, cursing. You craned your neck to try to see out the door around Genji’s body, the nurses were all huddled in front of a computer screen.  

“Viewers, there’s been an attack in the Norway Overwatch base. The pictures, the videos from the scene they’re-” The host covered his mouth, clearly paler than he was moments ago. Another person at the table snapped forward in sudden seriousness, eyes reading from a teleprompter.

“It appears at this time we have no official word on the attack. First responders have confirmed civilians were involved, likely on a tour of the facility. Before we show you the live footage from the scene, please be warned these images are graphic in nature-” His voice droned on in the background as you tried to focus on Genji’, or anyone who would actually know what the fuck was actually happening.    

The air felt eerie, a shift that happened almost instantly. You threw your covers from you and stumbled to Genji, placing your hand against his elbow and staring at him with scared eyes as you watched him read the message on his phone.  

“Medical Unit, HQ.” The head nurse answered on a shiny red phone out in the hall. Her face drained of color. “How many?!” She twisted around, wide eyes bouncing from door to door. “Get anyone you can to the local hospitals, we’ll start clearing out the rooms.” She quickly hung up the phone and started pointing to other nurses.

“So it’s true? Oslo was attacked?” Asked a nurse with bugged eyes.

“Yes. Get anyone not in critical condition out, now. We need every bed, they’re going to be flying back as many of the injured as they can. I need you to start notifying the surgeons to get here. You, coordinate with-”

An attack on the Oslo base? People were running through the halls, agents yelling across to each other, frantic voices into phones, cries of people trying to reach others they knew on the base. You squeezed Genji’s arm, eyes trying to read the message on his phone but it was to obscured. He reached up and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, holding you in a tight side hug and glancing to the screen showing bloodied bodies littering the Oslo entrance.  

You wished you could scream right now. You wished you could call Morrison and ask him if he knew. You wished you could ask Genji what the message was saying, all you could read were red block letters with ‘URGENT’ and Lacroix’s name.    

“Talon attacked Oslo. Commander Lacroix is moving all Blackwatch agents to the Rome base.” Genji finally said after he lowered the phone. “Immediately.”

Your heart sank to the floor as he hugged you tighter than he ever had before.

“They want us to be on the airfield in less than an hour. I do not want to go, but I need to.” His voice was quiet against the top of your head, muffled through the face plate while his fingers dug into your shoulder not wanting to let you go.

You nodded back, wishing you could scream and tell him you wanted to go with him. He squeezed you one last time and stepped back to open a compartment on his robotic arm, removing small blades and placing them carefully in your palms.

“If anyone comes for you, I am not leaving you without a way to defend yourself.” He didn’t look okay.

With worried eyes you reached and pushed his face plate up. His lips were quivering and you were instantly hit with a pulling in your chest and a tingling of crying in your nose. Your hand cupped his cheek, fingers running along the mess of scars the plate usually covered. You nodded to him, desperately trying to convey any kind of message to him. His eyes watched you with sadness and confusion as you dropped your hand and reached for his phone, then with curiosity as you opened his email and starting a new message so you could type to him.

_Please take care of yourself out there_

“You too.” He said offering you a last tight hug before he took his phone back and jogged down the hall, around the corner and left you standing alone and hollow.  

* * *

Mixed in with the panic of the attack, investigators who normally would have torn your story apart accepted your incident report with no question and rushed off to investigate the Norway base. 

Dr. Ziegler met with you early morning the day after they left, telling you Jesse didn't even get to land at HQ. Before they could even land the pilots on his drop ship were ordered to turn towards the Rome base so Blackwatch could launch a full blown investigation into the suspected culprits behind the attack. She had worry written all over her face, and kept checking the phone in her pocket. Genji must have told her to let you know Jesse wouldn't make it. She made a passive comment about how your blood levels looked off, but blamed it on Dr. O'deorain's inability to run proper testing and sighed as she readied a tray to take another blood sample. 

You were breaking out in a sweat. What had Moira put in you that was showing up unusual? You didn't think you wanted to find out. As she was opening a new swab, you heard heavy metal boots sprinting down the hall coming to a squeaking halt at your door. 

"Jack, shouldn't you be-" Dr. Ziegler started, surprised over her shoulder. 

"Please, Angela, I need to see her." He looked like he'd been through the wringer. His hair a greasy blond mess slicked back on his skull, forehead shiny and eyes dulled from lack of sleep. He wasn't even wearing his commanders jacket, just the skin tight black uniform shirt and his combat pants tucked into the boots. The doctor looked between both you, offering a pained smile as she quickly left the room. 

Morrison sobbed out your name, coming to your bedside and practically falling on the edge grabbing your hand. He didn't reach for your throat the way Reyes or Moira did. He looked you in the eyes instead of at the disgusting bruising like Genji and the nurses did.

Why? Why did it have to be Morrison who treated you so gently? You wanted to throw up when you looked at him but he was the only one you wanted to be around right now. You wanted to tell him that you'd been strangled by his best friend while you sucked his fingers and grinded in his lap. You wanted to tell him about Arntz, and her messages and how fucked up seeing those pictures made you feel. But you also didn't want to hurt him, not in that way. It felt sick, to be almost thankful that Reyes lost control and tried to kill you because otherwise, if he let you do what your drugged mind wanted at the time, you'd be so wracked with guilt you don't think you'd be able to function. 

You pulled him towards you in a sharp movement, uncaring that it hurt you to move so quickly. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face against his neck and gripping into his hair as you shook. In an instant his arms were circled around your midsection, holding you close to him as tight as possible. 

"I read the report." He whispered against you. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there to protect you. We'll find them. We'll find whoever did this to you and I will personally see to it they face justice." 

Fuck. Your heart was shattering into a thousand pieces, throat burning from the constrictions of sobs you were holding back. It would kill him to know what Reyes did. It was hitting you like a truck going a hundred miles an hour. You didn't want to hurt him like that, fuck, you loved him. You loved him and you wanted him here with you, holding you until you passed out exhaustion. You wanted him on the farm with you running fingers through your hair as you leaned against his chest and talked about how his day went. You just wanted to feel normal. You wanted him, and you just wanted a life that didn't involve super soldier strength and gray area geneticists. You hated him so much for what he did to you, for what he did to your team, but you couldn't stay away from him. He had a hold on your heart and your body, a hold that made you feel so safe. Even though you hated him, you loved him. Unconditionally. You just loved him.  

Even though it hurt, even though it made your body shake from pain, you crashed your lips to his taking sharp sudden breaths through your nose. He couldn't kiss you at first, startled from surprise he stilled until his mind caught up to his body and melted against you, holding your face and lacing his fingers into your hair. You kissed him until you were gasping and physically unable to anymore, leaning back against the bed frame and holding the base of your throat as you looked to him with down turned eyes. 

"I love you." He whispered, pressing his forehead to yours, hands gripping gently into your hair. "I'm sorry if it's too much, but I love you, and I'm going to keep telling you until you either push me away or until you love me back." His eyes were closed with furrowed eyebrows above them, tip of his nose pressing into yours. 

You scooted over in the bed, silently telling him to crawl in with you, that you wanted him to stay. That you needed him to stay. 

Overwhelming guilt and shame washed over you as he settled in on the bed with you, one arm around your body and you leaned against his chest. If you had just kept a level head when you received those messages from Arntz maybe things would be different. You would be moaning his name, wrapped in his sheets and confessing your feelings with happy sobs. You'd have heard from Jesse about how his mission went, Reyes would make you run extra laps in the morning for being late because you were too busy wrapped in Morrison's arms to get out of bed on time. Genji wouldn't be on a war path.  

Instead you held fingers to your throat, pushing on the bruising and inflicting small spurts of pain to yourself. Right and wrong were mixing together like sand, you were slipping into dangerous territory and for once you really couldn't tell what the future held for you. For now, you curled into Morrison's chest, leaning your face against him and listening to his heart beat as he drifted to sleep.       

 


	18. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things aren't looking so hot for the Blackwatch team out in Rome.

When Morrison wasn’t with you, he rotated security agents outside of your room. Big muscular ones who never greeted you, never turned to look and see how you were feeling. You'd hear the pained groans and cries of attacked agents making their way from Oslo that would haunt the halls, and the exhausted sunken faces of the medical team who tried to had clearly been overworked and lacking sleep. At night Morrison came to stay with you, propped himself up in your bed and cradled you with an arm as he glared at the door until his head fell heavy against yours unable to stay awake any longer. You hadn't had a nightmare since you took whatever it was Moira gave you, in fact, you weren't dreaming at all, you noticed.   

“We found three agents currently operating on base that may have connections to Talon. None of them have confessed to what they did to you, but one was unaccounted for on the days you were gone and we believe he did it. Until then I'm not leaving you here alone. I want you to feel safe.” Morrison stood reading off his phone in the thin doorway between your hospital room and the tiny bathroom attached to it, his hair wet and pulling on his clothes after the fastest shower you'd ever seen him take. He shoulders seemed to relax a little as he finished reading.  

You nodded. You were safe, you knew exactly where the person who did this to you was. He's walking the halls of the downtown Rome facility with all the other Blackwatch agents. You wondered what he's told Jesse about you since he’s been there.

Morrison sat next to your hip, his hand over yours and you stared at him with hopeful eyes as a loud knock preceded the door opening.

“Commander Morrison? I'm sorry to interrupt, but we need to move her.” A blushing nurse was leaned into the room, starting at the two of you inches from each other. He pulled your hand to his, kissing your fingers and you stared at how he didn't even try to hide his affection anymore. It's not like it really mattered, at this point you were sure just about everyone on base knew about it.   

“Which room is she going to?” His commanders voice was on, the one that he spoke from deep in his chest with.

“We're out of rooms here because of the attack, sir. We have to set her up in her room at the barracks.”

“Like hell you are. She’s not being left alone while she’s still healing.”

“We don’t have any other options commander, we need to take in the other injured and we don’t believe she’s in danger of her throat collapsing anymore so long as she allows it to continue resting.” The nurse looked nervous to be talking back to Morrison as he shrugged his blue jacket over his shoulders. "Per Dr. Ziegler's orders, sir." Her neck muscles tensed. Morrison looked to you. Last night was the first time you were able to swallow water on your own, and Dr. Ziegler advised you'd be on a liquid diet until the pain subsided. You were getting better, but you still needed a bio emitter with you at all times. 

"Give me anything she'll need for the move. I'll get her settled in at the barracks." He turned and hid a smile from the nurse as he clicked on his belt. Smug bastard. He wanted you in his room, not like you were going to complain. She looked to you with worried eyes, with a small smile you nodded. Your heart beat hard against your chest, flutters of worry swirled in you that somehow he would find out about what Arntz said to you, or what really happened when you went missing. You tried to take deep breaths through your nose, but they were still getting caught in your throat as you watched the nurse carefully pack everything you'd need for in room care.     

* * *

 

The elevator stopped on your floor first and he followed a few steps behind you in the hall was you walked, his arms carrying the list of things the nurse piled him with. 

“So, my birthday?” His voice was low as he leaned back against the wall, watching with that stupid smirk as you punched in the key code at your door. With burning cheeks you turned to face him, hitting his arm in jest and chewed on your lip, embarrassed he figured it out.

Your room was a mess when you entered, it looked like a tornado had ripped through the small space, your clothes all over, bed shifted and a new small dent in the drawers on your wall. It looked like he had laid in your bed, dark boot prints stained the wall at the end of your bed and the sheets a bunched mess. You motioned to everything, giving him a confused look, specifically pointing to the dent.

“Reyes and I were looking for anything that may have led us to you and we… had a bit of a disagreement.” That looked like more than just a disagreement. He looked like he didn't really want to discuss it, and stood in the hallway, facing the elevators and averting his gaze from you.   

You shoved your hand between the wall and your mattress, fishing for your phone and struggling to drag it up with your fingertips. You finally brought it out with a sigh of relief knowing no one found it while you were gone, the screen was off, probably dead for the last couple days. You quickly shoved clothes and small toiletries in your bag before joining him in the hall and snapping your door shut, ready to head to his room.

* * *

 

Something about going back to his room made your stomach shift. It looked exactly the same, smelled like the cheap boot camp soap, his bed made perfectly like it was every morning. If you told yourself a year ago where you'd be now, you may have flung yourself off the side of the building in hopes to avoid ever getting to this point, but the way he looked at you, the way his hands gently guided you to his bedroom were so comforting, so unlike the man who you considered nothing more than just a murderer not so long ago. The clothes in your bag were still unwashed from your time on the farm, having sat in your room waiting patiently for your return. Morrison could smell them from feet away and offered to wash them for you which you accepted with a thankful laugh. 

You fiddled with the bio emitter, setting it up next to you on his bed stand, adjusting it to exactly what the nurses wrote on the paperwork they sent you off with. You tried to clear your throat, instead resulting in a pained grunt and a small whine from deep in your chest and you cringed in pain as you touched the bruise.

"Hey, I'm going to make myself breakfast. You should lay down, continue getting some rest." He placed your empty bag on the top of his dresser, tossing your phone towards you on the bed, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw it in his hand. You tightly nodded your head as you watched him walk into the kitchen.

There was real fear that when you turned on your phone it would ring again with nonstop messages. As soon as he turned the stove top on you set your phone with the charger. Bouncing your leg and holding the phone in your hands you waited impatiently for it to spring back to life. Arntz, you needed to deal with the ones from her first. Morrison can’t know that she contacted you, that things she was saying sent you into a spiral. There was a small vibration from it as the screen lit up, and you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath trying to prepare yourself to see those messages again. Immediately your phone was going wild with notifications of every missed message, every missed call. You held down the volume button as hard as you could, trying to make sure the noises didn't continue and make Morrison suspicious. You could see the frantic messages, the back to back desperate attempts to reach you.

Focus. Arntz. Your hands were shaking as you went to her messages first. It looked like she continued sending you messages long after your phone died, still angry, still wishing horrible things on you. You couldn’t bring yourself to read them, you were too afraid to face what may happen if you started sinking into that hole again. Your thumb hovered over the block button, trying to build up the courage to cut this off. From the kitchen you could see Morrison coming towards you and you were hit with a wind of panic, confirming the block and watching as her messages disappeared from your phone.

You could see your voicemail was full, hundreds of missed calls from Morrison, Reyes, from everyone, even the Overwatch security desk and lawyers tried to call you. Morrison stood in the door frame, watching you staring at your phone, covering your mouth as tears formed at the sides of your eyes. 

"We were all really worried about you." He whispered and knelt in front of you, placing a hand on your knee. "Hey, look at me." You lifted your eyes to his. "No matter what happened, no matter what will happen, I'm here. We're going to move forward together. This will not break you, I know you're stronger than that."

You wished you could tell him that he was breaking your heart by being so gentle with you. Where was the Morrison who told you not to cry, who told you that you were acting like a child? That was the Morrison you wanted to fight. The Morrison you wanted to push back on his ass and kick between the legs. The man in front of you, this one you wanted to kiss and you wanted his hands to hold your face, the one you wanted to whisper encouragements into your ears while you slept.     

You spent almost the whole day while he worked from his room looking through the messages on your phone. Morrison dressed you back in his old SEP shirt and you opted for no pants, happy to be able to stretch your legs without prying eyes. You couldn't bring yourself to listen to the voicemails, especially not the ones from Jesse which filled all the most recent slots before the box filled. You had some messages from Moira, wondering how your time at the farm went and asking if you wanted to catch up over coffee, that she'd love to hear about the time on the farm and simpletons from the town. Her last message made you sweat, sent probably just about when she would have found you in the stairwell, a simple 'Is that you?'. 

Genji's, although few and far in between, were lengthy. You weren't sure why, but his last message was completely in Japanese and the translation your phone offered no help to you, other than to understand that he was worried about you and was looking for you. Amari had messaged you wondering if you made it back to base from America, wanting to catch up to tell you all about her visit to her daughter. Wilhelm sent a series of question marks you interpreted as worry. Some of the other strike team members, Blackwatch agents, and drop ship crew also tried to reach you and all at once you realized at some point you had stopped pushing people away and there were actually people out there who cared about you now. You couldn't bring yourself to look at the messages from either Morrison or Reyes, both for entirely different reasons. 

Instead in the later part of the afternoon you scrolled through Jesse's messages. They started out as joking texts that implied you had been with Morrison, then a mention of being sent on a recon and that he wanted to say goodbye, followed by message after message of frantic misspelled typing trying to find out where you were, why you weren't answering, why your phone was off. It hurt your heart and your chest to read through them, he clearly thought the worst had happened to you. Then there was a shift, the messages after Genji found you where he begged you to text him back, pleaded to hear directly from you, that he needed to know without a doubt you were okay. 

_You [16:28:54]_   Hey Jesse im okay. voice isnt back yet so I cant talk on the phone but Im alright so sorry to scare you hope youre not causing too much trouble out in rome 

_You [16:28:59]_   love you 

_Jesse McCree [16:29:02]_   DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IVE BEEN WAITING TO HEAR FROM YOU 

_Jesse McCree [16:29:06]_   I'm so happy you're okay sunshine 

_Jesse McCree [16:29:12]_   When your voice is all fixed up come visit us out here okay? I can't stand looking at gabe and genjis ugly faces all day without you

_Jesse McCree [16:29:14]_   Love you too can't wait to hear your annoying voice 

You smiled yourself, chest bouncing with a laugh but no noise coming out. Morrison sat next to you, reading Jesse's texts at your side and he wrapped an arm around you, putting your phone down you leaned against him and hugged your own arms thankful to finally be able to have some line of communication again. Morrison gently laid you back down, inspecting your neck as you moved onto your side facing away from him. You pulled his arm with you, hoping he would get the hint and spoon you.   

Happily, he laid with you. The way his body curled around yours was so comforting, so warm and safe. You could feel his chest expanding with his breaths against your back, your hips tucked into his and legs tangled together. When you actually slept you liked to be the big spoon, he usually would keep you awake sweating like you were in an oven and he was too strong to move when he was passed out, but right now you enjoyed his body wrapped around yours and his hand gently touching the scars on your arm. Deep in your chest you were able to make a low hum, happy to finally feel comfortable again away from the watchful eyes of the nurses. You missed this. Missed his touch and being alone with him like you were on the farm. 

Without realizing what you were doing in the moment, you were shifting your hips against him, gently guiding his hand up the front of your shirt until his fingers landed on the curve of your chest. He wanted to gauge your reaction, with curiosity he pinched your nipple, squeezing you in his palm as you drew your head back against him. He dropped the strong hand to grip at your inner thigh, slowly lifting your leg until it was resting back over his own legs.

“You’re still recovering, are you sure you want this?” His fingers dropped to the front of your panties, waiting.

Unable to form the words, you pressed back against him, dropping your hand over his and slipping his fingers under the band of your panties. With a long drawn breath he explored you, running fingertips down your slit, teasing at your entrance and making your body twitch.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself if you make noise, so you'll have to be quiet.” He placed a kiss on your shoulder and a broken whine came from you. “If it's too much, squeeze my arm.” He whispered in your ear. You could feel how much he wanted you, pressed hard against your lower back and swelling with each twitch of your body. The way he breathed against your skin was making your cheeks burn as you buried half your face into the pillow.   

You nodded, trying to take focused breaths through your nose. Fingers slipped into you, filling you, his hot breath on your shoulder- this was it. This was the only thing your body wanted, he was the only one you wanted.

You adjusted your hips for a moment as you slipped off your underwear and returned your leg to rest against him, he took the opportunity to pull himself free and his cock laid against your spread inner thighs. He was so warm, so hard. In a slow sweeping motion you pressed him between your folds and ran along his length. His chest to your back, he shuttered and groaned, letting a hand wrap around you and play with your chest again.

He wanted you to take your time, to feel his body again after the intense moment you shared the last time he had you like this. Even though you could tell he was ready to drive into you at any moment, he let you do what your body wanted. Your hand was between your legs, fingers pushing along the underside of his dick keeping him pressed against you as you humped against his length. Every time you rode back too far you ground your clit against him and made your body twitch forcing strained cries from your throat that both hurt and never felt so good.

He moved his strong hand to the thigh hooked at his legs, holding you open wide for him, fingers digging in with each pass by your entrance. The soft kisses at your shoulder were starting to mix with little bites, he was getting impatient but trying not to show it. His hips were moving with yours, patiently keeping himself in place, allowing you full control of this moment. 

If you weren't so hurt you'd call him commander and moan as he would immediately drive himself into you grabbing a fistful of your hair. You wanted him to be rough with you, a mixed feeling in your stomach telling you that he deserved to take you however he wanted after you've hurt him and he doesn't even know it. Since talking wasn't an option, you dug your nails into your side, slowly torturing yourself and him as you rocked along his length. You would press his tip at your entrance just enough pressure that he would believe you were letting him in then at the last second would go back to teasing him with your folds. There was a tightening in you that you weren't sure if you it was all lust of if you felt like you were delaying yourself from enjoying this moment with him. 

“I need you-” He begged against your skin as you continued the pattern.

“Please, I want you-” He cried through desperate jerking movements of his hip.

“I can't take the teasing anymore-” His fingers moved between your legs, spreading your lips and circling against your clit to make you moan low in your chest.

“I love you-” He said muffled against your back.

Your body curled in on itself. There we go, that's what you wanted to hear. Your fingers shot down and angled him to your entrance as your hips sank against him. He pushed in slow, savoring the feeling of your walls stretching against him, of filling you completely. You gripped into the sheets, biting at your lip and straining the skin across your neck as you tried desperately not to make any noises. He felt so good in you, fit you so perfectly, moved exactly how you needed him to.

You held your throat, the movement being your side constricting your breath. Carefully, he shifted his body so you were flat on your back and he was between your legs. Still in you, lifting your hips as he got close to your face he waited until you took a deep breath and he kissed you, rocking inside you shallowly.   

You squirmed beneath him frustrated that you couldn't make any noises for him as he rode into you harder. He licked the end of his thumb, bringing it between your legs while he thrusted, circling the wet digit over your nub making you almost cry from pleasure. He was getting angry, frustrated too, because he couldn't hear you and he dropped down pressing his hard chest against yours, kissing your cheek and your jaw.

“I wish I could hear your voice.” He moaned against your bruised neck. “When you're healed I want you to scream my name, my title, anything, I just want to hear you.” He was low against your ear as he pounded hard into you.

“I'll make you beg for what you want until your voice gives out. I'll keep you on the edge if I have to, tie up your hands and keep you from touching yourself-” He was panting and you were sweating and desperately holding back the noises that you wanted to give him, your throat already burning from the sharp breaths.

“Maybe I'll keep you in my room all weekend, turn off the heating and use you to keep me warm. Or maybe I'll stop right before you finish and force you to catch up on your training exercises with my cum running down your legs.” The coil in your stomach was so tight as he pumped in you. More, you wanted to hear more, you wanted to know all the dirty things he wanted to do to you. You encouraged him by reaching up, dragging your nails down through his chest hair and biting your lip, eyes desperate for him to keep talking.

“I want to watch you touch yourself in that pretty little dress, want to hear the way you said my name back at the farm-” He grunted, pressing his forehead to your hair, his cock swelling inside you when he mentioned that day. For a moment you thought he was done. He was going hard in you, hitting your soft spots and making you see stars, hard breaths no longer able to be controlled as they shot from your throat.

“Want-hh, I want to fuck you on Gabe's desk-”

That sent you over. You came with a loud gasp that felt like it ripped your throat in half. His eyes went wide and he bit back a big smile, upon hearing you he pushed himself up to his knees, gripped your thighs hard, keeping you from closing your twitching legs against him and he spilled inside you with fast deep thrusts. Your body was rushed with heat and feelings of static across your skin as cold sweat beaded on your forehead. You could feel his hard breaths above you on the skin of your stomach. With final light thrusts he let his head drop behind him to stare at the ceiling as he softened inside you.

“Sounds like you might like the idea of that one?” He laughed through his breaths as he rubbed along your inner thighs.

Shit. Your insides felt gross, tainted, knowing him saying that is what pushed you over the edge.

As you took struggled deep breaths and wiped your forehead, his hand ran along your legs then up your midsection, carefully touching your burn marks and scars. He moved your hair off your face, away from your neck. Normally intense blue eyes were heavy with pain as he stared at the fading bruise circling your throat and he gently pulled himself from between your legs, resting on his heels as he sat back.

“I think you should know Petras refuses to let me give you your own team to lead if we’re together.”

Is that what you were? ‘Together’? You rolled your eyes and giving him a look that said, _really?_  

“He thinks now it would be unfair treatment. That I would give your team priority over others.” His fingers ran along your collarbone sending goosebumps down your arm. “So I wanted to give you an out, if you want to take it. I don’t want to be the one holding you back and we can stop all this with no hard feelings.”

Shut up Morrison. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him down to you, kissing him hard as you pressed against his chest, only stopping when you coughed from limiting your air. It was never about Overwatch, not even when you joined. You just wanted to follow Morrison, you wanted to follow the leader you thought the world revolved around. He's what you were here for. 

“Hh ve oo” The noises that came out of your throat were nowhere near what you intended to say. He leaned back, hovering away from your face with a smile.

“You shouldn’t try to talk.” He kissed your cheek.

Just _listen_ Morrison, listen to the words you were trying to push out.  

“I-h ve oo.” God that hurt. Your throat felt so tight. His face dropped as he realized what you were trying to say.

“Hey-” He held your face and spoke softly. “It’s okay, tell me when you get your voice back.” He kissed your cheek again then crawled over your body and out of the bed grabbing both of your hands in his. As you stood you stared at him with the corners of your lips up, but hiding that you were on the verge of tears.

You could have ended this here. Could have stopped all the pain and the lies and guilt, but you couldn’t. He was here for you, no matter what, and the connection you felt to him deep in your gut pulled you towards him no matter how far your mind traveled.

You could feel him leaking out of you, down your leg as he walked you to the bathroom. Morrison started the shower for you as you brushed your teeth and you watched him in the mirror. Maybe Reyes would get better, like he wants to, like he says he will. Maybe that would be your only secret from Morrison, the one you took to your grave, but would otherwise have a happy life with him. Maybe when you’re both old and cranky you’d sit together on the porch swing at the farm and reminisce about the time you spent hating each other in Overwatch and you would laugh and you would have forgotten all about Reyes’s hands around your neck.

He put a hand on your shoulder, concerned face staring at your mouth in the mirror. You had been zoned out on the bruises at your neck, brushing so hard on the same spot at your gums they were bleeding and your toothpaste was frothing in red. You spit into the sink in disgust, tasting the iron across your teeth.

“Are you okay?” He was clutching a towel close to his chest in his other hand. You nodded, taking a few deep stinging breaths. “You’re safe, I’m here. No one will ever hurt you like that again.” He brought you into a loose hug against him and you kissed his chest, fingers playing with the graying hair going down his body. You stepped back, sliding away the door to the shower to get in. “I’ll be right out in the kitchen okay? Knock on the wall if you need me.”

And he was gone. And your chest hurt. You turned the dial up as high as it could possibly go, shaking under the scalding hot water as you held back tears. There’s no way this could last. You wanted to sit down and curl into a ball, but you’d be too ashamed if he found you like that. You were determined to be happy when you were with him, even if this comes crashing down in flames in the end. God dammit, you were going to be happy.            

* * *

 

“Come with me, I need your help with something.” He sounded more serious than you anticipated as you exited the bathroom with reddened skin and wrapped in a big towel, his commanders voice was on.

You hurried into your uniform, leaving your laces mostly undone up your shoes as you both rushed from his room. He was walking fast, blue jacket that made you sick but couldn't stop staring at fluttering in the wind he created behind him, tactical glass clicked in above his right eye. He hurried you into the communications building, into the classroom you taught the cadets in. The lights were off overhead and room eerily empty as he rolled a chair in front of a computer moving the mouse and lighting that corner of the room with an ominous dim glow. 

“Officially, I’m not here.” He placed a hand on your shoulder and you twisted an eyebrow of confusion at him. He was scrolling through his phone, placing it hard on the desk next to you as a noise clicked on the other end. “She’s here, go Gabe.”

“Lacroix and I have a suspicion about who ordered the attack on Oslo, but we need to access their data and _Overwatch_ has refused to go about this the legal way.”

“I already told you, we don’t have the evidence that would allow the UN to-”

“Rule following boy scout.” Reyes said annoyed. “Listen, we just need you to hack into his phone, search through some messages, just check for anything suspicious. His alias is Antonio Bartalotti do you remember him?”   

You shook your head and slammed your first to the table. That fucking asshole. He was suspected to be the head of Talon, Blackwatch currently suspects of calling all the shots in the organization.

He evaded you when Reyes sent you on a surveillance mission with Jesse to Venice, that mission must have been over a year ago now. He was a smart guy and immediately suspicious of you when you were undercover interviewing for a high position in his company. The glasses you wore with a hidden camera in them shorted out as soon as you entered his building and you were never able to report anything of substance, but he gave you this creepy feeling the whole time you sat with him. The way he looked at you and examined the scars on your arm, the questions he asked about how far you were willing to go for business deals- he was a dirt bag and he seemed like he was playing it up just for you because he knew you weren’t going to challenge it.  

“She looks pissed off, I’m taking that as a yes.”

While you worked on the program you pulled up the old file reports of him on your phone, anything with his name and handed it to Morrison to look over. You went into the systems on the back end, hoping to avoid tripping any Overwatch security checks that would prevent you from running illegal taps like this. The two of them listened to you typing, Morrison watched as you bit your nails in thought when you paused. The coding was going to take some time to run through the programs, to check all the phones registered to Antonio and his multiple aliases.

Your neck was getting warm, you tried to twist your hair up out of the way during the moments the code was running. After doing this a few times Morrison dug around in one of the pouches at his hip and moved behind you. You couldn’t focus on him, you stared straight ahead at the screen with fingers typing as fast as they could as his hands carefully gathered your hair behind your head and away from your neck. You could feel him clumsily looping a hair tie around and putting your hair up for you.   

Morrison rolled a chair next to you, taking a seat and as soon as he sat down and the code was running again you leaned over to him, running a thumb across the sharp stubble growing on his chin and pecking him lightly on the lips with a small smile.

You typed until your fingers were cramping, but finally, you were in. You scrubbed through messages until you reached the days before the attack and covered your mouth as you read one sent hours before the slaughter in Norway.    

_Hit them where it hurts, make sure there’s tourists in the building we want this to be international. I got those damn guns to your operatives and you better use them. Prepare for the attack on Oslo at noon, they’ll never see this coming._  

The room was deathly quiet as you huddled around the screen reading the message.

“He ordered it, Gabe. Didn’t even try to hide it.”

“I fucking knew it. I’m sending Shimada and McCree in there to-”

“You’re not doing anything. You’ve obtained this information illegally. They can observe him, but that’s it. Overwatch cannot make any moves until your agents see him committing crimes and we have the admissible evidence to back it up, you know if we don't he walks free.”

“He needs to be held accountable!” Reyes growled into the phone.

“I have to stick to doing this by the book Gabe, Petras is already grilling me everyday.”

You held your finger to your lips, Morrison told Reyes to hold on, that you were pointing at an outgoing call active at the moment on Antonio’s phone. With a click his voice was connected over the speakers.   

“Oh, Commander Reyes is that you listening in?” Antonio’s voice rang into the room and you froze. How the hell could he know that you were tapped in? “Tsk tsk, commander, we had some suspicions Overwatch would come snooping around when they shouldn’t be. Figura di merda, those racy photos with your poster boy really affirmed that you all have been tracking me for years. Did you think I wouldn’t remember such a pretty girl with ugly scars?” God, your stomach was dropping out of your body. Of course they’d prepare for this. “Say hello to her for me won’t you?”

The line disconnected. You held your face in both of your hands.  

“That’s it, I’m going to kill him myself-” Reyes sounded furious.

“By the book, Gabe! Don’t let him get to you. We’re doing this the right way.” Morrison was gripping into the back of your chair. “Keep it together. It’s late here, we’re going to sleep and you’re going to keep this under wraps. Call me if you find something we can _legally_ use.”

As the call ended you wiped the data from the computer, knowing full well you couldn’t leave a trail of this and shook as you followed an angry Morrison back to his room. Morrison knew Blackwatch was willing to bend the rules, to use their resources to access things in backwards ways, but when he agreed to let Reyes use you to get into Antonio's phone he thought it was a pipe dream, that you wouldn't find anything. You could see the regret in his decision as he kicked his combat boots off next to his door, leaving them in disarray, watching as he threw his commanders jacket to the floor and let out an upset groan as he climbed into bed next to you. 

You held him tight that night, hoping he wouldn't see the worry on your face. Hoping he wouldn't know that Reyes was already out of control, and there was a real chance he might go against Morrison's wishes and deploy a team anyways.     

* * *

 

You followed Morrison through his day to day after that, desperately trying not to think about Reyes making any rash decisions.

Two days you’ve spent bored, pouring through reports and “resting” as Morrison worked in his office. You tried clearing your throat, the buzzing along the chords feeling slightly better, just a little looser. Morrison lifted his finger to his mouth with a reminder to be quiet. For some reason you never seemed to believe him when he said he would be on phone calls for hours during the day, but he had jumped from call to call all day. First it was checking in on some of the research being done at the watch points, then a call to an inconsolable UN official who begged for Morrison to send agents on an escort while they traveled to the UK, press statements still trying to smooth over the pictures and the Olso attack, then it was Petras ranting and raving about Morrison’s media handlings and how he needs to make Overwatch look good after these last few incidents.

Amari was on her way back from an overseas mission that started while you were in the hospital, the other strike teams were working on attack plans should there be any instances on this base. You were so bored, but had nowhere else to go and it’s been hours. He looked bored too, his head dropped in his hands as his eyes fluttered, pretending to fall asleep listening to the voice on the other end continue. It was well past the end of the day, Morrison kept checking his watch and making silly faces trying to keep you entertained. He mouthed an apology as he rolled his eyes waiting for Petras to just shut up.     

With a sigh from deep in your chest you lazily lifted your shirt over your chest until it exposed your bra, pushing the cups out of the way and ran fingers over sensitive nipples. You stared into his unwavering eyes, the voice of Director Petras on the other end continuing to tell Morrison he was 'lucky’ about the timing of the Oslo attack, otherwise they'd be on their way to finding another face for Overwatch, and you stuck your tongue out at Morrison with a stupid smile. You heard the director say your name as you undid the front of your pants and you raised your eyebrows at the phone, you caught the edge of your boot on his desk and made a show of undoing your belt and sliding your hands down the front of your panties. The director was saying something about you being no good for Morrison, that if he had his head on straight he wouldn't be so distracted from obvious threats and you nodded, agreeing with him in exaggerated body language as you threw your head back while you teased yourself.

Morrison wasn't listening to him either, not anymore. He was responding with lip service, leaning back in his chair, cupping the tight front of his pants. His eyes narrowed as he motioned to your boot, shaking his head no and giving you a look that said you’d be in trouble if you kept it there.

You smirked with a silent huff as you took your foot off his desk and instead angled your hips so you could hook your knees off the armrests of the chair, spreading wide for him. He could see your fingers working yourself through your panties, your mouth hanging open.

“Director, I've heard this all before, I'd like to get back to actually doing my job now if that's alright with you.”

“Watch yourself Jack. Getting an attitude with me isn't wise.”

“I understand.” He said with his commander's smile, fingers quickly undoing the buttons of his own pants as he gripped himself through the fabric.

Petras mumbled something and hung up making sure to slam the handset down to make a point. Morrison’s hand worked himself out of his pants, fist pumping in his lap and chest rising with rapid breaths.

“Get those off and get over here, agent.” He was breathing loud through his nose, the sight of you doing this exciting him more than he could have anticipated. As quickly as you could you heeled off your boots and shimmied out of your clothes, practically jumping with legs spread over his lap as he sat in his desk chair and you laced your hands into his hair.

“Give your _commander_ a kiss.” He said with a stupid cocky smile. You grabbed his collar, pulling it towards you as you kissed him deep and pushed his tip against you. You lowered yourself on him, opening your mouth with catching breaths hitting his lips. He moaned low beneath you, rocking his hips up into you, hand holding your lower back as you started bouncing on him.

Even though your neck was fading to a sickly green and yellow he pressed his lips to it lightly, kissing along the marks then down your shoulder, your eyes watched him as he kissed down your arm to follow the trail, letting him try to kiss away the marks on your body.

“You're so beautiful.” He whispered as he kissed your fingers before nudging them away. The hand not holding your back reached up to your face. “Open.” He demanded with smirk.

You happily obliged as he pushed his thumb past your lips, his other fingers carefully resting against your jaw away from the bruising. Through half lidded eyes you watched his gaze drift over your body and felt his hips snapping up into you making your chest bounce for him. Sucking on his finger hurt the top of your throat, but the way he smiled when he breathed out made it worth it. The way he pulsed against your walls and dug his nails into your lower back only made your skin warmer and your blood pump faster.  

The screens on his wall lit with an alert from Athena.

“Commander Morrison, there’s an emergency.” Rang her robotic voice. You both snapped away from each other, looking to the alert. He held you tight as he leaned forward, taking his thumb from your mouth and circling his tactical glass around his ear, opening the alert and searching through a contact list.

“Jack! Fuck!” Reyes’s voice was shouting over the speaker from his phone, the background sounding hectic, filled with yells and wind.   

“What the hell’s happening out there?” Morrison kissed you and smoothed the hair out of your face before you scrambled from his lap and back around the desk, into your own clothes as fast as you could move.

“The whole fucking building’s down! A bomb it sounded like. I managed to get Lacroix out of there but Jesse-” It sounded like he was digging through something, you could hear labored breathing on the other end. Morrison was perfectly tucked back in his uniform, the only tell you two were even doing anything was the remnants of light blush across his cheeks quickly disappearing.

You slammed your palm on the desk staring at the phone, opening your mouth and trying to say Jesse’s name but noises coming out as struggling breaths.

But Jesse? But Jesse, what?

“He’s going back in for more people-” You needed to sit down, your body couldn’t take the swing of emotions you just felt. “We’re coming back to HQ and half my people will be in fucking body bags! You should have just let us get that asshole once we knew he was responsible, my agents' blood is on your hands Jack!” Reyes dropped the call, you could hear he wasn't thinking rationally, he was yelling from emotions clenching tightly in him.

Old you would have sided with Reyes, would kicked and screamed and made a stink about what Morrison did, or in this case, didn’t do. You grabbed his hand as he sent out the emergency alerts to the Overwatch agents notifying them of the collapse.

“I want you to be there when they land.” He held you close to him. “I think they’re going to need you a lot more than I will in the next few days.” You nodded against his chest.

“I love you.” You croaked out low, almost inaudible, voice rough from days of not talking and bruising still healing on your vocal chords. His arms squeezed you hard.

“I love you, too.” With a heavy sigh he backed up from you. “Are you going to be okay alone while I’m busy dealing with the directors?”

You pulled out the blades Genji left you with, holding them up between your fingers and nodding. Morrison let out a small smile and started the process of calling the directors to inform them of the explosion as you took off down the hall towards the Blackwatch ship bay to help prepare for the teams arrival.


	19. Hurt Me. I Dare You.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blackwatch comes back, but I think we all know what happens next.  
> You and Morrison have a discussion about love and come to terms with the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've officially passed 100k words! Uhhhh sorry I write so much thanks for sticking around lmao

They would be arriving back on two separate ships. Reyes on the emergency ship with Lacroix, the medical team was already on standby prepared to jump into action as soon as the doors opened, and Jesse with Genji later in the day with other agents who made it out basically fully intact. It was a flurry of action as the staff hurried onto the first ship when it landed, they moved Lacroix’s unconscious body to a gurney before rushing off towards the medical wing. You stood back out of the way, giving them room to get what they needed done before you went searching for Reyes.

When you saw him, his large form was hulking out of the doors, ripping off his dented armor and throwing it the ground.

“Reyes-” Your voice was low and cracking but there was no way he didn't see you standing directly in front of him as he barreled off the drop ship.

“Commander Reyes-” You said a little louder even though it hurt, he zoomed by you with eyebrows down under his dirty beanie and anger written all over his face.

“Gabriel!” You raised your voice at him, breaking at the end. You grabbed his wrist and he jerked his arm away. He stopped and turned to you, his eyes had black seeping in at the corners, his jaw was clenched and hands balling into fists at his side.

“Not now.” He growled, you almost fell backwards as you heard how deep his voice was. The way he spoke made you shake, it sounded exactly like it did when he was surrounded by smoke and that knocked the wind out of you. He could see the gasping fear on your face and he tried to soften his expression, but just made him look even more pissed off.

“S-sorry.” You managed to sputter out at him.

“I’m not in the mood to talk-” He seemed to realize he was scaring you. The black in the corners was slowly fading away as his expression shifted from anger to concern. You took a step back from him, holding your hand close to your chest.

“I can tell.” You didn’t mean to, but you brought your fingers to your throat and gently touched the bruising. He inhaled sharply as his eyes dropped to stare and you tried to hide that you were touching it. “I-I’ll find you later, okay?” Your heart was beating so hard you could feel it against the skin of your chest, feel the beat at the base of your throat, and the pulsing at the veins in your wrist.

He moved suddenly, and you almost screamed when he wrapped his arms around you, cradling the back of your head close to him. You couldn’t hug him back. You think you were breathing too hard, too fast. Confused agents from the ground crew looked at the two of you with eyebrows raised and looks of concern. Your head was getting light as he spoke with a quiet voice against the top of your head.

“I’m sorry. Please don’t be afraid of me. I know we need to talk about everything. There’re just some things I need to take care of now, then we can. I promise.”

You couldn’t stop your body shaking as he backed up from you. Your throat was too tight to make noises. You nodded your head as you grabbed his fingers and squeezed before he was completely away from you, he gave you a small nod. His skin was so warm, it felt like it was burning up, and when you released him you were left with dusty residue from the fallen building that you rolled between your fingers. With sad eyes he turned, jogging out of the port and glancing over his shoulder at you standing alone in a crowd of people, body curled in on itself trying to be as small as possible. You could see a large cut in the back of his sweatshirt, the dark green of the fabric soaked with dried blood.

* * *

 

It was late into the night when the last of the agents from the drop ships landed after a long flight. You found Genji first, he was covered in dents and scratches, some of the lighting of his tubes on his back flickered as he walked. He pushed the face plate of his mask up over greased hair and you could see a new gash with dried blood across his face and down his cheek, another scar to mix in with the many he already had.

“I need to get to the medical wing.” He said to you as you approached him running on your heels, he was examining his robotic arm, an empty socket stuck half way open and caked with dirt. The metal on his skin was dulled with dust.

“I’m glad you’re okay-” You said touching his arm as you jogged at his side trying to keep up. Genji elbowed you off him then thought for a moment and stopped in his tracks. You figured he was just being overly aggressive after everything that’s happened, but he turned and faced you with all seriousness as he said your name softly.

“Was Commander Reyes the one who hurt you?”

It felt like time stopped. You could see the people rushing by you, but your body froze, mind racing a million miles a minute. Genji was from a line of assassins, from people who lied, deceived, and snuck around for lifetimes- he was no fool. You wondered what he heard when he stood outside your door in the medical wing, what he must have thought when he saw Reyes’s bloody nose and your hand on his face. What he must have seen with Reyes while he was in Rome. You wondered what explanation Reyes gave him for how he was acting and why he looked so tired that night.

You realized you’d been standing there for far too long, quiet settling between the both of you heavier than the dust on his skin.

Rage was spreading across his face, you needed to say something, _anything._

“No.” Was all your horse, wavering voice could come up with.

Jesse yelled your name from the drop ship, but you didn’t break eye contact with Genji. You could hear the sound of boots with spurs hitting the ground as they ran towards you, but you couldn’t look away from his doubting eyes. He looked to your neck and the fading bruising and cast his gaze down with hurt. You felt a surge of sickness in your stomach, guilt that was slowly eating you from the inside out rotting away at your core.

Jesse practically knocked you over when he crashed into your body and wrapped you in a bear hug. The sudden jostle finally ripped your attention away and you buried yourself against him as you squeezed him tight. From the corner of your eyes you watched as Genji walked away from you while he rubbed at the dried blood on his face.

Jesse smelled like dirt, blood, and old cigars mixed with body odor, but you pressed your face into his broken chest plate and you felt him shaking, and you heard the sharp sudden breaths, and felt the way he tried to hide his face in your hair and then you started crying, too.

Tired agents around you were emptying out of the port, agents going back to their old rooms, heading to the medical wing for minor injuries, agents going to commissary because they hadn’t eaten in over a day. You stayed there with Jesse, tightly wrapped in his arms, two people who felt like they hadn’t seen each other in a lifetime, two people traumatized by wildly different things, two people who just swayed and cried and dug their fingers into each other as if the moment they let go the world would come crumbling down around them.

You weren't sobbing, not the way Jesse was. Your tears were streaming in silent pain and his were guttural, gripping. You could hear other people around you, comforting conversations, hands rubbing backs and picking friends off the floor. You stayed tight in his arms for who knows how long until the port was hushed with the noises of whispered stories between ground workers and the far away sounds of welding and drilling.   

When you finally loosened your grip on him and leaned back to look at his face you could see his bloodshot eyes puffed around the edges from lack of sleep and wiping away tears. His facial hair was grown out and messy, hair longer than you thought it’d be for having not been away that long. He pushed his thumbs on the underside of your chin, eyes watering still as he examined the marks across your neck.

“Heard they found the bastard.” He said sour faced and chewing on his cheek through phlegm caught in his throat. “He’s lucky I didn’t.” His voice was dark, angry like you’d never heard it before.

You tried to swallow your guilt, your lips quivered and you squeezed his wrists unable to say anything with the constriction from the sobs.

You don't know how lucky, Jesse. He's been in front of you the whole time. Would you be willing to kill the man who gave you a second chance at life? 

“Now, maybe it’s too much to ask after everythin’ you been through, but any chance you’d stay with me tonight?” He needed a shower, and some sleep, but you nodded as much as you could, trying desperately to twist your face out of the sadness scrunching it together.

As you walked with him to the Blackwatch wing you refused to let go of his arm. Gone for only a handful of days, most rooms had been untouched apart from the frantic packing of clothes and small personal items agents planned to take with them before a permanent move to the Rome location, Jesse and Genji’s bunks were a mess of clothes, books, and armor strewn across the floor.

He didn't want to shower, didn't want to eat. Right now he just wanted to lay down, to process and to be with someone he trusted. 

With shaking hands you unlaced your boots and kicked them next to his door, dropped your weapons belt and shut off the light as Jesse changed into an old black shirt, letting his pants pool onto the floor next to his bunk. He looked exhausted. You looked exhausted. When he climbed into the bed he scooted as far as he could to give you room and you laid next to him, hugging your body as you faced him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many dead bodies in my life before.” He whispered in the darkness at you. You didn't want to think about how many he'd seen before this. “Dammit. Can’t protect my people. Can’t protect my family. I don’t know what I’m doin’ here.”

“You got people out of there Jesse, you saved who you could. You did _everything_ you could.” Your voice was low, the internal bruising slowly letting up and allowing you to speak without pain.

“You don’t have to try to comfort me, darlin’. You've been through enough on your own.” You scooted closer to him until your legs hit his and your head was tucked under his chin. “I've been real worried 'bout you. Reyes said you don’t remember a thing about the stranglin', is that true?”

No. Nope, the memory of that is in full technicolor vivid detail and it fucking killed you that you remembered everything. 

“Not a thing.” You whispered on the verge of tears again.

He brought an arm over your back, holding you close to him. His fingers ran through your hair lazily, getting caught on knots. You couldn't tell in the darkness if he believed you. It felt like no one believed you. If anyone else told the story you did, _you_ wouldn't believe _them._

“It's been over a day since I slept. I think we both need some rest, yeah?” His voice already sounded half asleep. 

You nodded, balling the front of his shirt in your fist and trying to take deep breaths. It didn't take long for Jesse to pass out from sheer exhaustion, but you stayed awake just a little longer. Brain refusing to slow down your thoughts, to stop smelling the blood on his skin and remind you of your team mates bodies broken across the forest floor, you squeezed your eyes shut. Forcing your mind to focus on dark nothingness, forcing yourself to focus on the feeling of not getting enough air.  

* * *

 

When the sun lit his gray room in the morning, Jesse was laid on his back with eyes open and staring at the ceiling, you faced him still on your side as you blinked away the blur from your eyes. His hands rested over his stomach, nervously drumming against the fabric on his shirt. He still stunk and his skin was greasy from sleep, the hair on his jaw matted down at weird angles from tossing and turning all night.

“That Antonio is gonna pay for this.” You think he said this to you, but he never looked to the side to see you awake.

“We’ll bring him in Jesse.”

“You’re sounding like that goody two-shoes _boyfriend_ of yours. I don’t wanna bring him in, I wanna see him in a body bag.”

“Morrison’s not-” Nope, wrong part of that to focus on. “Antonio’s a shitty guy but killing him is too rash. If we kill him, someone else will just replace him and they’ll just keep getting away with it.”

“That man doesn't deserve justice. He killed practically all of Blackwatch, got civilians and kids too. Bastard doesn't care who he hurts or what the cost is, he just wants to see us in pain. I'm not just gonna sit around. I’m gonna be spendin' my day at the practice range. I won’t miss a shot if I can take it.” His lip was curled in disgust, nostrils flaring. He wasn't going to listen to you. Maybe you should get Amari to reach out to him, even in his worst mood, he always listened to her advice. She definitely wouldn't want him killing someone unless it was an absolute last resort, and it would hurt him to disappoint her.   

“Please Jesse, I don’t like seeing you like this.” You whispered as you played with the collar of your uniform shirt you slept in. 

“And I don’t like seein’ you with bruises ‘round your neck-” His face snapped to yours. 

“Jesse.” You said softly, hurt voice breaking as you grabbed for his hand.

“Sorry, sunshine." His eyes softened when he saw the worry on your face. "I don’t mean to lash out at you, that aint fair.” He sat up, rubbing his hand through flopping dirty hair. “Listen, about that commander. I saw those pictures, made me feel all messed up inside for days. It was wrong of them to do somethin’ like that to you and that pissed me right off, and I think that's just makin' things worse. Your whole thing with him, I don't know... I want to hear about it from you, how'd all go?”

You sighed, dropping to your back as you fiddled with loose strings on the underside of his pillowcase. You started with the farm, with telling Jesse how happy Morrison made you. How that was the most peace you’ve had in years. You told him about the dress and how he accidentally told you he loved you, and that you didn’t handle it with as much grace as you’d wished. You told him you loved the farm, and all the dirt devils, and the smell of mist in the mornings as the farm across the street watered their crops.

You hesitated and held a balled fist over your stomach, keeping in the overwhelming need to tell him about the messages, and the drugs, and the smoke that filled Reyes’s room. Instead your voice broke and you told him Morrison stayed with you in the hospital bed, that he treated you with extra care and that, fuck, you loved him and you couldn’t deny it anymore, that it was physically hurting your chest to hold it back and that even though you don't know how to move forward from here at least you know you love him and he loves you.

Jesse leaned against the wall and listened, cupping your hand in his and letting you tell him everything, letting you unload pent up emotions that you clearly hadn't voiced before as you stumbled through talking about it. When you were done, he shook his head and unclasped your hand from his. 

“I don’t think you love him.” Jesse reached across you to his bedside table and rummaged through a drawer. “I think he’s just the first man here that responded to the kind of attention you wanted, and you jumped on that as soon as you got it.” He pushed a horrible smelling cigar between his lips and lit it behind a curled hand.

“That’s fucking rude, Jesse. I got attention from you, but you don’t see me sucking your dick right now.” He shot you a knowing, mean, look. You sat up, hanging one leg out of the sheets and bringing the other curled against your chest with your expression shifting from just upset to angry. 

“I think the man just thinks you're fuckin’ crazy and wants to take you for a ride. Men like him, men with that kind of power? They'll take what they want and throw you in the trash the moment they get bored. He ain't ever gonna be proud of you, show you off to the world like a proper man would. Never gonna take you on dates and treat you right. You'll always just be the dirty secret that got aired out for the public, the one he keeps up in his bedroom for when he wants to get his dick wet.” He blew a long plume of smoke out in front of him. 

“Fuck you. You're projecting your own shitty experiences on me because no guy has ever stuck around long enough to love you. You're wrong about him.” You forced yourself to stand. Genji's bed was still stacked with a blanket and pillow, clearly unused last night.

“I hope I am.” He mumbled, putting the cigar back in his mouth. That might have cut him a little too deep, he slumped against his wall and faced away from you. 

“I'll talk to you later, you know I hate it when you smoke in the morning.” You used his smoking as a flimsy excuse as you grabbed your weapon belt and your boots and shot him a glare when you kneed open his door. “Listen, I'm really happy you're okay Jesse. I love you, even if you're being an asshole right now.” You told him before the door snapped shut behind you.

You sighed and pressed your forehead against the wall outside of his room as you took in a deep breath. He was already in an understandably bad mood, you don't know why telling him all that about Morrison would do anything other than make him bitter. Shit. You just needed to give him time. You should definitely have Amari come talk to him, she would probably know what to say to help him right now. You rolled your forehead against the wall in thought, the cold steel walls feeling good against your warm face. 

“Is he smoking those damn things again?” Reyes's voice came a few feet from you down the hall. Your head snapped to him and the small bag he held in his hands.

“He's stressed out.” You said looking over your shoulder to stare at his door.

“Well I am too, but you don't see me killing myself with those things.” Reyes pinched his brows together at the smell of the cigars leaking from beneath the door. 

“Like you're one to fucking talk about what's killing you.” You spat out at him with cold eyes. 

He shifted his weight as he sucked on the inside of his cheeks, eyes cast down. You stood your ground, boots and weapon belts still cradled in your arms making a small squeak as you squeezed them closer to you when he approached. You watched every move he made as he brought a hand up to the velcro Blackwatch patch on his shoulder, peeling it off and holding it between two fingers as he dug through the paper bag he carried.

“Take these.” On top of everything already in your arms he placed the Blackwatch patch and a bag of gummy bears from commissary. Your chest tightened and you looked to him for an explanation. “There's too many people for individual funerals, so we're having a mass ceremony to honor them in a few days. I want you there with us, in our colors.”

“I was never officially part of Blackwatch.” You said quietly, eyes focused on the bears and the way their empty eyes stared back at you.

“You never needed to be.” Reyes's eyes looked so sad, different than the bears. His eyes searched for something, for any tell of forgiveness in your face. “I know how you operate, you would have followed Blackwatch to Rome if I hadn't-”

Your arms tightened around your boots, stomach doing flips in your body. He was right, if you weren't in the medical wing you would have forced your way onto a drop ship and into their mission, you wouldn't have let them go away without you, even if that meant leaving Morrison behind.

“You know what’s fucked up, Reyes? I did still want to go. Even while I was laying in that hospital bed because of y-”

“We shouldn’t be talking about this here.” He said with a low voice, bringing his beanie down lower on his forehead.

“And where should we be talking about it? When will it finally be a good time for you?” Your voice broke as you raised it. 

“When I’m not in the process of notifying my agents families that they’ve died. When I’m not sending their bodies back home. When I’m not planning out the next moves on Talon, and covering for Lacroix while he’s fucking comatose, and his wife is screaming at me for hours because she trusted me to keep him safe!” He wasn't talking to you with awkward evaded breaths anymore. His shoulders were squared and voice coming from his chest the same way Morrison's commander voice did. 

The door behind you opened, cigar smoke and Jesse spilling out to see who Reyes was yelling at, surprised to still see you here.

“The hell is goin’ on out here?” He said clearing his throat with a dry cough.

“Nothing.” You replied sharply as you shouldered past Reyes down the hall.

Behind you there was a muted struggle, you could hear Reyes trying to pull the cigar from Jesse as he scolded him for smoking in his room again. You rushed with the things in your arm, trying not to show how upset you were as the elevator doors opened to Wilhelm's concerned face. The button for your floor was already pushed, and you leaned against the mirrored sides looking into blue eyes. 

"Can you tell Amari to go talk to Jesse?" The glass on the mirrored elevator was cool against your forehead, too. Wilhelm shook his head as he blushed.

"Oh, I'm- I'm not going to see Ana- Captain Amari-" 

"I don't care, Lieutenant." You said closing your eyes, exhausted from stupid white lies and hidden feelings. "I clearly am not one for secret relationships, and I really _don't_ care what you're doing with her. Just, please, Jesse needs to talk to someone that isn't me, and he'll listen to Amari." When you opened your eyes he was biting his lip, still on the verge of trying to save face, even when the doors opened and he followed you out onto your floor. 

"I'll let her know, captain." He said quietly to your back as he knocked lightly on Amari's door. 

Balancing everything in one arm you typed in Morrison's birthday and your door hissed open to your cold dark room. It felt so lonely now, even the window looking onto the sunrise seemed muted and the low hum of the minifridge hidden in the cabinets on your wall reminded you of how empty it was. You dropped everything on your bed, running a hand through your hair you decided the first thing you needed was a shower, to get Jesse's stench off you. 

Cleaned and wrapped in scratchy overused towel, you gathered some things to take to Morrison's room. The first thing was your formal uniform, the all black one used only for funerals. Carefully you removed the covering on the side of the shoulder with the Overwatch patch and took your time replacing it with the one Reyes gave you for Blackwatch. You dug around in the drawers on your wall, knowing somewhere you had the black beret with their symbol on it, to replace the blue Overwatch one. All put together and laid out in front of you, it pulled at your heart to see what a natural fit it would have been to be in Blackwatch. You still had a deep yearning for joining the secretive branch, for working with the team who saw you at your worst and still accepted you, even if that meant working with Reyes. 

You threw your spare combat uniforms in, and gathered your formal and running shoes along with your casual clothes. You thought, for a moment this was definitely too much to bring back to his room, that you had to remind yourself that you weren't moving in with him, that this was only temporary, just for a few more days until things settle and go back to the normal routines. You changed back into your combat uniform, laced up your boots and walked alone through the hall and stood alone in the elevator. When you got back to his room it smelled like strong coffee and maple oatmeal, his dishes were unusually still sitting in the sink, breakfast half eaten and left there as he must have hurried out. 

You laid out your clothes on his bed and chewed your nail as you pulled your phone from your pocket. 

_You [06:57:54]_  i know youre busy today, when you get a chance can you tell me the best place to put my extra clothes? i dont want to invade your space while im here 

While you waited on him you fixed your boots next to the door, perfectly lining them the way he did. You washed the dishes and felt silly about feeling homesick for when you cleaned up your meals together at the farm. Passing time, you tried to do the simple exercises the nurses cleared you for, ones that wouldn't stretch your neck too much. Your throat was feeling so much better now that you were talking semi regularly, there was still a little burn at the base and little ticks, but you could fully breathe again without feeling like you needed to gasp for air to fill your lungs.

While you were examining the almost faded marks in the bathroom mirror your phone dinged softly in the bedroom. Your heart jumped a little at the noise in a brief moment of panic remembering all the messages Arntz sent, but you fluttered your eyes closed with a deep breath to remind yourself that the feeling you had that night was only temporary, that even if she tries to contact you again you have to remain in control. 

_Jack Morrison [08:38:01]_   The bottom two drawers of the dresser. If you need to hang anything, put it with my uniform on the rack. You know you're welcome to make yourself comfortable there. 

_Jack Morrison [08:38:52]_   Hope things went okay with BW, I'd like to see you tonight. I think it's going to be long day for me.     

Your eyes fell to the dresser and with the end of your foot you slowly opened the bottom drawers, both completely empty. As you carefully folded your clean clothes into them, you leaned back on your palms and wondered when he did this. Curious, you peeked in his other drawers and found they were full, he certainly could have used the extra space. You'd been with him these last days, so it had to be sometime before you came to his room from the medical wing that he emptied them.

You smiled to yourself, but bit back a twitch of sadness. Jesse was wrong. He didn't see the way Morrison talked to you, how he held you, he wasn't around to see how he treated you and was filling in the gaps. He was just hurting and trying to bring you down with him, you told yourself.  

* * *

By the time the sun set you were still alone in his room, getting what work you could get done on the small screen of your phone. You changed into his SEP shirt, taking care not to rip the hole on the arm any larger than it already was, and brought old pajama shorts over your hips tying them loosely. You fell asleep curled in the warmth of a spare blanket, laid on the armrest of the couch as you waited for him. On the stand next to you was an empty clear bag, the smell of gummy bears still stuck to it, plastic balled up and tossed with anger when you thought about Reyes waiting in line to buy them for you at six in the morning. 

Morrison didn't come back to his room until well after midnight. He opened the door quietly, letting the low lighting from the screen on the wall in front of you playing the news light the room as he took a deep breath happy to see you after a long day. He was careful with removing his boots, smiling at your shoes lined at his door, trying not to make noise as he hung his jacket on the wall and made his way to the kitchen.

In your sleep you stretched out letting cool air under the blanket to your sweating skin, accidentally kicking him with your foot. When you lifted your head groggily it was close to one in the morning and he was in his sweatpants and loose shirt, sitting on the other side of his couch starting at the screen flickering images of late night infomercials, but not really watching it.  

“Hey-” You said softly to him.

“I didn't mean to wake you.” He said trying to smile but not able to. He touched your ankle, rubbing his thumb on the skin softly. You stitched your eyebrows down at the weird look on his face and he stared at the floor and mumbled. “Today was a bad day.”

You nodded, shifting out of the blanket as you climbed sideways into his lap to lean against him. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Your head landed on the top of his chest, fingers playing with his sleeves as his hand rubbed along the outside of your thigh. 

“I helped Gabe make all the phone calls, helped him with all their coffins. He lost so many- we lost so many good agents.”

“I know it must be so hard on both of you. I used to say some really hurtful things to you about not caring when things like this happened. I'm so sorry.”

“I didn’t expect your empathy back then, when we were fighting all the time. You said mean things, but a lot of the times they were true and I needed to hear them.” He squeezed you to his chest, holding you close against him. “I'm thankful to have you here now.”

You hummed in your throat, lifting your face to kiss the end of his chin. His hand wandered until it landed in your hair, gently bringing you to his lips as he kissed you slow.

It was getting late, you should both be heading to bed, but you'd never kissed him like this. Not with the bitter taste of a long day and words of death lingering on his tongue. You tried to be gentle with him, to let him hold you how he wanted to, to guide you how he needed. 

He lifted you, breaking from your lips and set you in the center of the couch. With a deep sigh he sunk off the cushions, onto his knees in front of you, between your legs.  

“Can I ask you something and get an honest answer? Not a joke one, or one to hurt me, but just the straight truth?” His big arms rested against the tops of your thighs, and his hand played with yours until he brought your fingers to his mouth, setting small kisses across the skin of your knuckles. 

“Anything.” You responded, sweat slowly building on your palms. Almost anything, you should have said. Please don't ask about that night, please Morrison.

“Do you actually love me? No buts, no games, no long con revenge, just genuine, real, love?”

“I love you. Just love.” You didn't even need to think about it. Didn't need to mull it over or want to play pretend. You cupped your hands over his, fingers running across his, lacing between them. “I know my timing wasn't great when I tried to say it last, but I do love you Jack. I feel safe with you. Comfortable. It just feels like I'm right where I'm meant to be, and I am honestly and truly in love with you.”

His arms circled around your hips, bringing you closer to the edge of the couch and closer to him and he kissed your stomach through the shirt with a shaky sigh.

“Say it again.” He breathed out with a smile.

“I love you.” You ran your fingers through his hair, messing up his perfectly in place style before you kissed the top of his head. 

“Again.” He kissed the scars on your wrist and you could feel his breathing shuddering against your skin, his voice sounded like he was about to cry.

“I love you.” You were smiling, rubbing small circles with your thumbs on the back of his neck.

“Again.” He demanded this time a little more aggressively, as he hooked fingers into your waistband and locked eyes with you.

“I love you, Jack.” You breathed out as you lifted your hips for him and he slipped your bottoms off. He was still smiling, cheeks pinked, lit only by the dim lighting of the screen behind him as he brought your knees over his shoulders and pulled your core forward.

“Again.” He said muffled between your legs while he kept eye contact, breath hot as his tongue pressed against you.

“Jack fucking Morrison, I love you.” You moaned out. Your thighs squeezed around his head, fingers gripping into his hair, holding nothing back, wanting him to hear every noise.

He started slow, licking along your slit and sending shivers up your spine. Everything he did was to get you to make a noise, to whine for him when he teased you and drew away, long moans when he circled wet around your clit, gasps when he dipped at your entrance. You could feel that smile of his, feel his excited sharp breaths through his nose.

He slid his hand along your thigh stopping next to his mouth, he pushed his thumb into you as he sucked on your sensitive nub causing you to twitch and whine against him. He lifted his face, finger still hooked in you.

“I want you to be mean to me.” He said resting his flushed warm face against your inner thigh. “Say all the things you would say to be before, when we hated each other.”

“I don’t want to hurt your feelings-”

“I want to hear them. I need to hear you say them.” His eyes were begging, after a day like today you thought maybe he’d want you to be gentle with him, but if this was what he wanted you were going to give it to him, and hold nothing back. He bit at your skin lightly then kissed the spot over and over again. You sighed as you melted into him.

“You’re a shitty commander.” You gasped as his mouth returned to you. “You used to be great, but you let yourself be pushed over until you were too lazy to give a shit about what you were doing to other people.” Your voice cracked as his thumb pushed against your inner walls, tongue flicking you and making your stomach jump. “You’re selfish, only ever thinking about yourself and how situations will affect you, not considering what happens to anyone else." He hummed against you and you were falling to pieces. "You’re fake with everyone, pretend to be this perfect model of a commander who never drinks, who never curses, the perfect poster boy. But I can see right through you.”

He was groaning against you, mouth moving more aggressively. He replaced his thumb with two thick fingers, spreading and stretching you around them as he dipped his tongue down between them. You were practically falling off the couch, head swimming from the surrealness of airing out old grievances in this way.  

“You only break rules when they're inconvenient to you and you’re too hard on the new agents who are just learning the ropes- Fuck, Jack!” You moaned out as his tongue slipped in you, your speech was getting breathier and more frantic. “So many people have lost their lives because of you and your shitty decisions and your flip flopping moral compass, and you’ve hurt people, you’ve hurt me, you should have just let me double check Jack, fuck, I could have stopped them and I didn’t, and you could have stopped Antonio but you didn’t, and I could have stopped Re-” You slapped the back of your hand over your mouth trying to hide what you were saying with a moan, hoping he wouldn’t question where you were going with that. You were breathing hard, shaking from the coil deep inside you tightening to a point that it hurt and desperate for the release of things you still kept bottled up inside you.

“Tell me what you think I deserve.” He panted out against you, curling his fingers and sucking at your clit. Fingertips pressed on your walls and blurred your vision. 

“Fuck. Fuck- you don’t deserve to be the face of Overwatch. All you do is make shit worse and cause scandals and they should have kicked you out long ago. You should have been put in jail and left to rot.” You gasped as he bit you lightly and sent rushes of heat across your skin.  

His body was bouncing against you, deep moans pushing against your entrance as his mouth worked around the fingers the were hitting your nerves in all the right places. Your toes were curling in the air behind him, nails digging into his hair.

“Both hands on me, commander.” You demanded. “You don’t deserve to touch yourself.” You could feel his smile pressed against you as the hand pumping in front of him came up to grip your thigh and push it back against the cushions spreading you wider for him. Your legs were shaking, the way his fingers were moving inside you already built you up. Your hips were hanging off the end of the couch now, supported only by your upper back against the cushions, your weight pressing into his face and your thighs over his shoulders.

“You’re a coward.” His nails dug into your thigh. “Too afraid for too long to get back into combat, using Petras as a shitty excuse to avoid being shot at again. Can’t even stand up for yourself on the phone, too weak to talk back to directors who you could break in half if you wanted to. It’s pathetic.” He was breathing so hard against you. Your body was on fire about to burst at any given moment from the way he expertly worked every movement of his fingers and every lick in just the right place.

Fuck. You needed more.

With a gasp you moved your leg and pushed a heel against his collarbone until his face drew back from you, his mouth was shimmering against the dim lighting, his eyes pointed and intense at you. You moved your foot to the middle of his chest and shoved him down to the ground with a hard push. He was breathing so loud, so desperate. Hips strained in front of him, rutting in the air for you, hard cock pointed in his lap.

You climbed on him, giving him no time to say anything as you lowered yourself and bounced against him, working for your perfect angle and circling your hips. He couldn’t stop the low moans from deep in his chest, from rolling his shoulders against the rough carpet beneath him. His eyes were half lidded, angry and sad, but something so raw about the way he was looking at you.

“Spit on me.” His voice was gruff and his hands palmed against your thighs hard as you rode him. You were griping onto his shirt, lifting the front and using it as a handle on him. You thought about it for a moment as you moved up and down against him before you brought your movements to small circles and leaned over his face, spitting in a small spray across his lips.

You could feel him swell in you, a hard pulse as he dug the back of his skull into the ground and licked his lips. One of his hands shot to your clit, driving fingers against you, making your body spasm for a moment as his other gripped hard on your scars of your arm.

“No touching.” You demanded now. He bucked his hips up into you making your body jump as he brought clawed fingers hard into the carpet at his sides. He tried to control the pace by snapping his hips into yours but if he moved too fast, too needy, you lifted above him just enough to make him whine.

In the heat of the moment your hands wandered across his clothed chest, you slid them up only realizing what you were doing, what you wanted, when your fingers were around his neck. His eyes watched you with patience and your thrusts became shallower.  

“It’s okay. If this is what you need, do it.” His voice was breathy. “Go on.” He wrapped his hands around yours and put pressure. “I wasn’t there to protect you when I should have been. Hurt me. I dare you.” Your grip was strong, but you knew you wouldn’t, couldn't, do any damage to him. You were shaking and your blood boiling, just on the cusp of riding over the edge as you circled on him. He dropped his hands back to his side and laid back as you worked yourself as hard as you could against him.

This was it, your pathetic reclaim of power, choking the wrong super soldier with a grip too weak to even cut off his airway. It didn't matter that you couldn't actually strangle him, just the view of it, the feeling of doing this to someone else was releasing a flood of emotions from your chest making you want to cry.

“Fuck you! I hate you.” You groaned as you tightened your fingers and pressed against his neck the same way Reyes pushed against yours with his thumbs in the center. Even after the awful things you just said to him, he looked at you with such care, eyes watching to make sure you weren't going overboard, watching to make sure you were okay. You couldn't do it anymore. You leaned forward and you kissed him, a flood of heat burst in you as your hands fell to the sides of his head. “I love you, I love you so much Jack, fuck. Fuck- fuck, I love you.” You panted against his lips. He grabbed your hip under the oversized shirt and brought you down hard against him, you could feel him filling you as he throbbed against you, over and over against your squeezing walls his release was just as needed as yours was.

In the final moments of spilling into you, your legs shook against him, he wrapped his arms around you and quickly sat up with you curled around him in his lap. He kissed your neck and the bruises that were almost gone and he held your back with both of his strong hands. Your body was shivering from aftershocks, you dropped your forehead to the crook of his neck and you could feel him rumbling through his chest, low whispers about how much he loved you between kisses to the top of your head were almost inaudible as you tried to calm your dry sobbing to settled breathing.

He lifted you with him as he stood, your limbs feeling like jelly as they clung around him. He carefully pulled himself from you and carried you to his bed to lay you gently on the edge. You watched as he clicked on the lights and pulled your shirt off, then his own, and he stood in front of you, bare, and examining your own body. He lifted your left hand, turning your palm and looking over your fingers, mouth leaving small kisses trailing up your scars to your shoulder then down your body over your midsection and to your hip.  

“The pain I've caused you is unforgivable.” His hands rested on the curve of your waist.

“Pain I've overcome. Yeah, there are times where it's harder to deal with than others, but I've forgiven you." You trailed his hand as his fingers traced your scars. "I've forgiven you." You whispered mostly for yourself, staring at the ceiling and picturing the words written on it above you. It wasn't a question, or a coping mechanism. You've seen the hurt he feels. Seen the toll his job takes. A mistake. Not a monster. It's not possible to forget, but a mistake from a man who was trying his best, you can forgive. 

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you." He wrapped arms under your waist as he leaned over you and kissed your neck again. 

"There wasn't anything you could have done. Please, don't blame yourself for it." You hugged him until he leaned back, and brought you to a point where you were sitting up and he was kneeling in front of you again. He kissed your knees as you touched the stubble growing above his lip and ran your hands through his hair with a small laugh that made him look up to you. "You have some grays up here." 

"Maybe if I look the part I can get early retirement." He smiled as his face nudged your hand. 

"Can I ask you a question?" You played with the few grays you found sprouting above his ear. He hummed an approving noise at you as he kissed the inside of your wrist. "How long have you had those drawers empty for me?" 

He paused, blushing as he stood and moving to lock your fingers between his. 

"Honest answer?" He bit his lip and you raised your eye brows as you nodded your head slowly. "That morning you first woke up here. It was after the night we fought about you spending so much time with Blackwatch, but you came back and agreed to be only with me. I've... been hoping you'd bring your things for a while."

You tried to hide your smile, and you pulled him back into the bed, messing up his perfectly made sheets as you shimmied your way between them and kissed him on the tip of his nose. He kissed you and held your face between his palms, drawing back as his fingers pressed along your skin. 

"Whoa, you're burning up. Let's get you to sleep. The last thing you need right now is to get sick." You felt your face after his hands left you but you couldn't tell the difference. You opened your mouth to protest but instead watched as he gathered your clothes back up. You went to his bathroom, checking the bruises on your neck one more time, staring at the backs of your hands as you sat peeing, hoping beyond hope in the brief moment of being alone that you actually were just getting sick.

* * *

While you slept you felt a tiny kiss on your forehead and the backs of his fingers on your cheeks. Morrison was gone by the time the sun was peeking through the blinds when you opened your eyes. Your throat felt sore and scratchy, swollen from either sickness or overuse, and you curled in the blankets as you tried to fight your body to get out of bed. Nervous, you messaged Morrison that you were going to head to the medical wing to get checked out just in case there was any possibility of your chords collapsing. You felt faint but you shimmied into your casual clothes and waited in an overtly long line of agents, mostly from Blackwatch, who were there get minor injuries looked at. 

The nurse pushed on your throat, used a small x ray to scan, but all in all gave you pass and blamed the sickness on stress from the events of the last couple days. With sunken eyes she told you to come back if the soreness and tightness lasted more than a couple days, and that they would run blood tests to make sure everything was okay. You questioned why they wouldn't just do it now and she solemnly said they were already backed up because of the Oslo attack, and now with all the victims of the Rome attack coming back to base things were bound to be days, even possibly weeks behind.   

By the evening you were getting restless, hot and cold shivers up and down your body. You wandered to go find Jesse and see if he was in a better mood, heart hurting how you left him yesterday morning. 

The Blackwatch hall was eerily quiet for how many people you saw. Traumatized agents kept their heads down, some huddling together to talk among themselves, but something didn't quite feel right, something wasn't settling in your stomach. You knocked at Jesse's door, offering groans of apologizes when you noticed it was locked. Thinking through all the things his code could be, you found it unlocked when the numbers spelled out an obscene word, and you opened the door still talking circles with 'I'm sorry's, only to find the room empty. Genji's pillow and blanket remained untouched, Jesse's bed was unmade but his travel bag was missing.

You slid the door shut and jogged to the end of the hall, knocking on Reyes's door over and over until you found yourself inside and searching through the darkened commanders room for any sign of them. 

You hurried down the hall, opening common rooms and staring in at agents who would glare back at you, agents who clearly didn't want to be bothered. One by one you called all of them, sense of panic increasing every moment their phones went immediately to voicemail. Your heart was pounding, palms sweating as you opened Moira's lab a few buildings over and found it too sat in undisturbed darkness. Now you were paranoid, running full speed to Morrison's office, rushing past Overwatch agents who gave you weird looks, who asked if you were okay.

Moira's phone was off too.

She had to have done something to them, this was her fault, she wasn't your friend at all, she had them just like she had you and you had to tell Morrison, you had to keep them safe-

"They're gone!" You yelled as you burst into his office. Morrison looked up from a screen on his desk with an urgency on his face as soon as he heard you.

"Who?" 

"Everyone. Reyes, Jesse, Genji, even Moira's gone. I can't find them, I can't get a hold of them, this is all my fault, I should have-"

_"Dammit."_   He said standing and quickly circling the desk until he grabbed you by the arms. "Take a breath." You shook as he hugged you, your eyes were wide, confused panic still sinking in your stomach. "I know where they are, they've gone after Antonio. He knew we couldn't be involved, but he knew I wouldn't stop him if he left. I didn't think he'd actually go." Morrison ran his hand through his hair, letting out big breaths that filled his cheeks with air. He let go of you and turned to his desk, pulling up documents across the tabletop and typing anything he could into the databases to find out what exactly Reyes's plan was. He looked to you under shrouded eyes. "If I give you the Blackwatch access codes can you get into their communications?" 

"Absolutely." You said joining at his side and typing frantically through classified databases and locked data hubs. You leaned heavy against the edge of the desk as you looked through their logs. "They didn't take any open lines, no body cameras. The pilot checked out analogue radios. They're operating on local frequencies only." Why, why were they going dark for this one?

Shit. Jesse already mentioned wanting to kill Antonio. You crumpled into Morrison's chair as you looked to him for guidance, as you looked to him as your commander. This was going to go bad. Really, really bad. 

"They don't want any trace they were there." Morrison said hunched over staring at the screens. "Head to the medical wing, check on Lacroix's status. I need to nip this before it goes south and get our Italian government contacts-" He was talking to himself, leafing through papers and files on his screen. You were already on your feet heading out the door to check on the recovering Blackwatch commander. "If you find Ana get her here too!" He yelled at you as you turned to run out the door and you gave him a silent thumbs up before taking off through the halls.     

Lacroix was awake, but groggy. His wife sat at his bedside, holding his hand in a tight grip as they spoke to each other quietly in French.

"Commander Lacroix?" You asked, breathing hard from running almost all the way across campus as you leaned in from the hall. He smiled, head drifting from you to his wife with a sly look.

"That's her, Jack's play thing." His voice was slurred with pain medication and his accent. His wife blushed and tapped him lightly with a stern face, eyes silently trying to yell at him that he wasn't being polite. 

"Sir, we think Commander Reyes may be moving in on Antonio. Illegally." You tried to brush past his comment, but your face was burning up and the back of your neck was soaked in sweat. He tried to sit up straighter, tried to focus his eye sight on you, he was clearly still in no shape to lead. "I'll have the details sent to you as soon as we have them, but we might need you soon. Get some rest, sir." He nodded to you, face dropped in seriousness as you took off again this time in search of Amari. 

You found her in the practice range with a mix of strike team members, and new recruits all going over sharp shooting. She knew something was wrong as soon as she saw you. As you both ran to Morrison's office you filled her in on the tapped phone call you helped Reyes with, and on Jesse's sour mood yesterday. Her face tightened, mentioning she meant to go talk to him but never got the chance. She looked just as worried as you did, both of you knowing well enough that the mix of missing Blackwatch agents with tastes for revenge could only lead to trouble.        

* * *

 

It took almost a week for the Italian police to hand custody of the Blackwatch agents to Overwatch. By then, the news picked up the story about a cold blooded murder of a well known business man, the media released security footage of agents dressed in black fighting masked assailants in a public area. It was a hollow feeling knowing the world knew of Blackwatch now. It felt like every bit of your life was slowly becoming public knowledge, like soon there'd be nothing left to bottle up and all your deepest kept secrets would spill to the surface of every news outlet in the world proclaiming everything you held in you with big bold letters. 

You didn't even want to know what kind of deal they cut with Overwatch to get them released, but Morrison looked beyond done every night he came back to the room. He was so tried, and frustrated. You and Amari did what you could to help, to try to field the nonstop calls, to deny the requests for interviews and dodge the screaming matches with the directors. The strike teams were left in a strange limbo, everyone still continued their normal training routines, but the air on base was uneasy and uncertain. Those days you waited for Blackwatch to return left you feeling empty. When you weren't working on logging every piece of data about the incident you were leaned over between your knees, sweating from a nonstop fever. You didn't have time to go back to the medical wing. Didn't have time to deal with your own issues, you needed to get them home.    

The ceremony for those in the Rome attack kept getting pushed back until finally it was held without them, no longer able to be put off while Overwatch waited to hear from Italy to get the team back. You sat on the edge of the audience, solemn faced and digging in your cuticles, with Blackwatch agents who looked at you like you knew something about what happened, who looked at you like you shouldn't be wearing their colors, shouldn't be pretending to be part of something you're not.

It was when you were walking back to the barracks that Morrison called and said they were landing anytime now. You ran to the holding facilities to watch the interrogation holding your dress shoes that kept slipping off your heels in your hand, not caring about the holes and runs gravel were causing in your stockings. You stood on the outside of a two way mirror. Knowing the number of people they killed just to get to Antonio, knowing how his body was shot so close, and with a gun so powerful, it knocked him out of a window and you knew there was only one explanation for who killed him.

Deep in your gut you knew, _you knew,_ Reyes did something extreme. Things you heard on the news just weren't adding up, but you weren't prepared to hear it from him.   

With a held breath you watched as Morrison went in first, followed by Amari and a very weak Lacroix who sat across from Reyes. Around him they pulled up everything they had on the incident, every inconsistency, every media story, every shaky video you'd meticulously logged. 

There was no way he could see you on the other side, but through the reflection he was looking in your eyes and you saw the same eyes as you did before you went limp after his hands tightened around your throat.

Morrison spoke first. 

"Alright Gabriel, start from the beginning."


	20. Gabe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to have a conversation with the Blackwatch Commander.

As you pushed a long exhale out, you knocked at his door with just two fingers. Light taps, hesitant bent knuckles knocking gently, partially hoping he wasn’t awake yet.

“You’re not getting your stupid cigars back Mc-” He looked surprised to see you, face changing from obvious annoyance to nervous happiness in an instant. “Hey.” He said softly, leaving the ghost a smile on his lips.

You hadn’t been face to face with Reyes since he exited the interrogation room and he saw you in your formal funeral uniform wearing his colors. At the time you were overheating in the thick uniform material, the old fashioned pantyhose with rips streaking like lightning up your legs weren't helping either and you stood with a face sheened in sweat. Amari and Lacroix ushered him away in the opposite direction down the hall, but when his eyes hit you as he left the room and saw the Blackwatch patch, the Blackwatch hat, it looked like he had been punched in the gut. Morrison joined you at your side to watch Reyes be hurried away, his large hand resting on your shoulder and keeping you close as you leaned against him and quietly discussed what the next steps were. 

Morrison and Amari had been avoiding Reyes for days after that, in turn so did you. He pissed off a lot of people pulling the stunt he did and being part of the crew to help Morrison handle it both internally and with the media took a lot out of you. Killing Antonio gave you an excuse with Morrison to avoid Reyes, to explain the uncomfortable stares and avoided conversations, an excuse you latched onto and ran with.    

“I think we need to have that talk now, Reyes.” Your voice was still tired from waking up early to make sure you caught him before he started his day. You could see his chest rise with a deep breath as he nodded and opened his door wider for you to come in. You figured he must have just taken a shower, parts of his facial hair and buzzed head were still glimmering with water. Form dressed in black sweats that had remnants of paint from long ago across the leg and one of the standard issue plain tshirts hanging loosely off him, this was as casual as you've seen him since, well... 

His blinds were open, cold air hitting the window looking into his small living room with gray skies behind the morning snow. You held a packet of cookies you bought first thing when commissary opened close to you in your blue strike team pullover pocket as you dipped under his arm and into his room. He hesitated after he closed the door, watching to see where you would go first. You stopped at his kitchen table, where a mess of fabric and papers were strewn across next to his half covered sewing machine tucked on the corner.

"What are you making?" You asked as you ran the rough fabric through your fingers.

"Seat covers, for the couch." His voice was tired, too. He chewed his cheek as he joined next to you, lifting the fabric as well. A pang of sadness hit you as you realized him being so close was making your palms sweat and your heart race from fear. Trying not to make a deal out of it, you laid the fabric back down and backed up away from him. You stuck your hands in the front pocket of the pull over, fingers crinkling the plastic around the cookies. Through the side of his eyes he watched you for a moment fiddling with the inside of your pocket, he shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other until he finally made his way into the kitchen and rifled through a cabinet for a pot. 

“Where do you want to start?” His voice faced away from you, nerves preventing him from meeting his eyes to yours, too afraid to face what you were actually here for. 

“How about with how you’re doing? With how you’re _actually_ doing.” You hopped up onto the counter in front of a cabinet you knew he’d need to get into, fingers gripping the edge as you leaned towards him.

He stayed quiet for a few moments as he stared into the open door of his fridge before taking a carton of milk.

“I’ve been better.” He finally mumbled out. "Have you been… okay?”

“No.” You answered coldly. He had to look away from you, clearly not expecting blunt honesty to his question. After pouring milk in a small pot, he clicked on the stove and you stared intently at the scars on his face.

“How was the combat mission?” He asked clearing his throat, clearly trying to save this somehow. Trying to act like this was a normal conversation was failing spectacularly. You pushed out a sarcastic hard laugh at his question.

“Uneventful.” With a twist at your midsection you turned around to face the cabinet behind you, legs crossing in front of you and you opened the squeaking hinges to sift through his ingredients. He took each item from you and placed it next to the stove before he dropped in chocolate after breaking it into pieces, careful to keep his body as far from you as he could.

“You look tired, are you still having nightmares?” He asked softly, stirring the ingredients in slow circling movements.

“Actually, no. I haven't even had a dream since _you strangled me.”_

He fumbled and dropped a wooden spoon in his hand, chest shuddering as he caught his breath and clenched his jaw while snapping to look at you. You stayed silent, face unmoving as stone as he picked it from the floor and washed it in the sink, shaking.

“You fucking strangled me. With your own hands. And then you threatened me if I talked about it.”

“I know. I know, I’m sorry." He leaned heavy against his counter, face twisted in pain and disgust moving to look away from you. "I had no right to put my hands on you. There's no excuse, I was paranoid out of my mind and-”

“I thought you were going to kill me.” Your voice cut him off, small and shaky, suddenly losing all steam of confidence as you tried to stop a dry sob from bubbling up your throat. He ran his hands over his face, across the corners of his eyes and over the top of his skull as he faced you. Dark eyes met yours, pleading to hear that you forgave him, that you still wanted to be with Blackwatch, pleading with hope that he could will the whole thing away and make it disappear. His eyes dropped to your neck, poking out between the edges of a hood, skin no longer blemished with his doing.  

“I thought I was, too.” He whispered, voice scared and just barely audible above the noise of the burner on the stove. He moved in front of you, leaning his arm against the edge of the counter, his hand next to yours.

You bit back tears as you hit your forehead hard against his chest and reached up to grip at the front of his shirt. A gentle hand cradled the back of your skull with hesitation. Your body wanted to cry, it shook like it was, but no tears fell to your cheeks.

“I’m scared of you now.” You pushed out between tight lips and a clenching jaw. 

“I know.” You could hear the pain in his voice, a straining comfort unsure how to hold you, how to even look at you now, let alone talk to you.

His fingers tangled into your hair as his other arm wrapped to hug you and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime you brought your arms around him too and held as tightly as you could. You hugged him and caught your breath as you beat his back with balled fists, but he stood tall and kept his arms around you.

“I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted you to even know about my problems.”

“I hate this.” You dug your fingers into his back and his fingers lingered in your hair with gentle caresses, fingers twitching at every one of your moments. “I hate that I can't breathe around you, that seeing you angry makes me jumpy now. I'm lying to the only people that matter, I was finally getting to a place where being happy could be normal-” You were gripping into the back of his shirt, face buried against him babbling away.

“I know. I know-” His voice was breaking. “I need you to hear me. I know what I did was horrible, I lost all control and gave into something in me that told me in the moment _that_ was the only way it could end. Even though I want nothing more than for things to go back to how they were before, I don't think going back to normal is possible for us. I understand if you don't want to work with Blackwatch- with me anymore. I understand that you hate me.” His voice was facing above him, head dropped back. You couldn't see his eyes squeezed shut, and his brows stitched together with worry, with guilt. 

“I don't hate you.” You mumbled against him. “This is awful, because I love you so much and you've always been here for me. It hurts that you felt the need to hide this, to hide what was happening to you. Commander Reyes-”

“Please. Please, just call me Gabe.” His big arms squeezed you tight against him. “I don’t think I can take you calling me ‘commander’ or my last name anymore. We’re well past that.” His face was pressed against the top of your head, hand dropped to your shoulders rubbing your back. You let your arms fall to your side and pulled back from him as you studied his face.

Over and over you see the same traits in him and Morrison, but this request sat with you a little differently. Morrison’s first name was saved for intimate moments, for times alone and times you told him you loved him. Morrison was your own way of distinguishing the boundaries for yourself, for setting your limit.

Gabe was _just_ who the man was in front you. Gabe was the one who made you hot chocolate and helped you control your breathing during panic attacks at four in the morning. Gabe was the voice in your ear who guided you through your covert ops missions before Morrison would allow you to go back to full combat. Gabe was the one who talked sense into you when you ran lap after lap in the rain. Gabe filled a room with blinding black smoke that reminded you of the darkness in the forest. Gabe was the one you trusted when he wrapped his hands around your throat. 

Gabe, just Gabe.

Gabe, it is.

“I think it's burning.” You whispered, eyes cast to the pot on the stove.

He backed up, heading back to the pot to stir his hot chocolate mixture. His shoulders were curled to his front, body trying to be as small and unimposing to you as possible. The look of worry wasn't leaving his face, save for maybe the hint of hurt you saw streak across it when you brought your hand to your neck and pressed your fingertips to the front of your throat. You felt stupid. That’s not how you wanted this to start off, you thought you’d ease into the conversation, get your bearings and come out of this unscathed, but apparently your heart had other plans and your words wanted to run with them.

“Can you tell me what happened? How you ended up in my room that night?” He asked as his body faced away from you. You took a big breath and scooted back on the counter until you were leaned against the cabinets.

“It has to do with these.” You lifted your left arm, pushing the sleeve of the pull over up and his eyes glanced at you, following the scars from your wrist up until they flashed to meet your eyes. “And I guess since you’re already using it as blackmail against me, you should have the full story.”

He cringed hearing you say that, but he was patient with your story.

Quiet and attentive as he listened to you, you explained as much detail as you could telling him about the mines. You told him how you had that picture of Morrison tacked to your wall, how he’d become a lax commander and you hated him for it. You told him that your team begged to let you double check, but still he forced them forward. You talked him through all the things you saw on the forest floor and how that was all you dreamed about afterwards, and much to his dismay, you also told him what you did with Morrison in your dreams.

He held his breath as you told him about the contracts and the crew who lied to save Morrison’s ass and the horrible non-choice choices they gave you with all the repercussions.

“I’ll be put on a UN watch list. It’s jail for me if they find out you know about any of this. I’d never be free again.” You reminded him as your fingers dug into the seams on your black leggings. 

“Are you really free now?” He asked whisking together final ingredients, tone coming out a little harsher than he intended.

That stung more than you’d care to admit.

You told him about Arntz. About the messages she sent you, about how you were already in a sensitive place with your feelings after the farm and that she tore your walls right down, that she dug emotional claws into your stomach and hooked them there until all you were left with was panic. He asked to see the messages, flashes of anger in his eyes as you described the horrible things she said to you.  

You could see the way he ground his teeth together as you explained Moira finding you, how in the moment you begged to make the panic stop, that during that time she seemed like the only logical option.

His eyes looked so sad, tormented almost by the way he looked into the pot as you described typing in his key code and seeing him after days of being strung out on god knows what, of seeing him drunk and almost completely naked all spread out on his couch and the rush of feelings as they came back to you. You had to wipe your palms as you told him how uncomfortable you were when Moira joined in on the threatening in the hospital. That you knew what you were doing, even though it was wrong, was all to help him, to test the things going into his own body.  

“I didn’t want to feel. And when I didn’t, Gabe-” He looked to you with big eyes. “It felt so good. It felt _so good_ to just be numb.”  

“That’s a dangerous way to think.” He said under his breath as he turned off the burners. “You need to stay away from Moira, from what she offers you. Even if you think it feels good, even if you think it’s helping, or think that's the only way to deal with your situation, I don’t want you anywhere near it. I know she told you those drugs were helping me, but I don't want or need that kind of help-”

“Maybe if we just do smaller experiments, in controlled environments-” You begged. 

“Absolutely not. I don’t want you anywhere near the stuff she’s doing.” He pinched his brows together, flaring his nostrils in disgust at the idea that you would ever want to put yourself through what Moira did to you again.

“I can’t just sit back and watch her do countless failed tests on you-”

_“No.”_   His deep voice rumbled out at you. He was pouring the hot chocolate into the usual oversized mugs, the ones that you assumed either Jesse or Morrison got him as jokes. ‘World’s Okayest Boss’ read one, the other ‘Tears Of My Agents’ in a flowery cursive font. “I brought her into Blackwatch so she could help me, not so she could recruit my team into being her test subjects.”

He brought the ‘World’s Okayest Boss’ mug to your hands with a large cinnamon stick poking out of the top, wrapping his own fingers around yours as you grabbed it and looked you in the eyes for far too long.

“What if she’s killing you, Gabe?”

“I know what the risks are.” He looked stern. Large hands squeezed yours gently before letting the full weight of the mug land in your grip. “Come on, let's sit down over there.” He jerked his head towards his couch. You carefully inched yourself off his counter, taking a small sip of the drink before you walked towards his living room. The snow was getting heavier, sticking to the lip of the window and building a small layer.    

As you sat you stared at the large whiskey stain in the center of his couch and curled yourself against the far end, leaning to the side with your arms wrapped around your knees and your chin tucked between them, mug barely touching your lips. He placed a blanket at your feet offering you warmth, knowing he kept his room on the colder side. You opted not to take it, not to even move it, hoping he wouldn't notice you were already radiating heat and sweating. He sat opposite from you on the other end, testing his own mug and blowing plumes of steam from it out in front of him.

“That shit she injected you with, we don't know what kind of effects it will have on you." Well, you were pretty sure you knew one. You tried to slyly wipe the sweat from the top of your forehead. "She should have never given you anything in the first place, but after seeing your reaction she should have known you were not in the right state of mind to know when to stop.”

“You talked to her about it?”

“Talked would be a nice way of putting it, yeah. I also read all those stupid notes she wrote down.” He sighed heavily as he ran a hand over his face and into his hair. “She’s been doing these experiments on me since I hired her, tests to see if she can isolate the part of my genetics SEP altered. She should have never used you to test it and I told her if she ever tries to pull that shit again she's gone.”  

The snow was picking up against his window, the small layer now at least an inch tall. You'd probably be in for the weekend, but all you wanted to do was jump face first into a pile of it and stay there until your body melted everything around you.

“So that black stuff that looks like smoke, Moira didn't do that to you?” You finally asked after settling against the cushion. Gabe made such good hot chocolate, it was almost unfair. Even though your body felt warm, the drink felt smooth and comforting as you wrapped your hands around the ceramic mug and sipped it.     

“No. It started with SEP, but it’s never been this bad. You saw it at its absolute worst.” Fuck. Of course you did. “And it's not smoke, it's me, in a way. It's hard to pinpoint exactly what it is, but it's my life force, it's like my soul.” His shoulders pushed into the cushion behind him, body making it clear how uncomfortable he was talking about this. 

“Is it painful when it's all-?” You motioned around the top of your body, waving your fingers in the air as if it was smoke.  

“It can be. It comes in waves, mostly. It's more... overwhelming.” He was avoiding looking in your eyes, body facing out away from you. You filled the awkward pauses by sipping the hot chocolate he made you. Part of you still wanted to cry, still wanted to scream at him, but part of you wanted to comfort him and tell him you could fix this, that he didn't need to do this alone that his family would have his back and he shouldn't feel ashamed for the things that were happening to him out of his control.  

“Wait, so does Morrison-?”

“No.” His face snapped to you with tight lips. “As far as I can tell, I’m the only one with these kinds of… side effects.” He was irritable, fingers almost gripping too hard around the mug at the question. 

“What does it feel like?” You averted your eyes, hoping not to set him off. 

“It’s-” He paused to think about it, sipping some of his drink and deep in thought. “It feels like being stitched together, like a rag doll being sewn back together again.”

“That sounds horrific.” How he even managed to function day to day seemed like a mystery to you now. “Can you control it?”

“Obviously not.” He growled, mostly to himself. “If I could I would have never-” You hated the way he was looking at you right now. Guilty eyes, but just behind them was something dangerous and unknown. 

You asked him to tell you about every time before, that you wanted to know exactly what set him off and why. It took a while for him to figure out. During SEP it would only be after seeing death up close and personally. Gradually, he became numb to that part of a soldiers life, and the smoke seemed to slowly fade out of his life until he was running Blackwatch. Either age or stress, he didn't know which, seemed to cause him to be quicker to anger, make more reckless choices. He knew he had to get help when it was a struggle to hide it. They ran every blood test, allergy test, every test he could think of through the official Overwatch medical rounds but still everything came out normally. 

It wasn't until Moira joined Overwatch that he was interested in the research she was already doing, repatterning human genetics. He kept up on her articles and studies even after she was kicked from Overwatch, and she seemed like his last chance to put a stop to the paranoid, angry, horrible calling deep in his stomach that was selfish and out for blood. He was trying to stop it, he was trying to prevent himself from becoming a real monster. 

By the time he told you everything, your mugs were empty and inches of snow piled in the window. You'd messaged Morrison letting him know, or more so lying to him, about Gabe, saying you were trying to come to terms with what he did to Antonio. Your head was leaned on the backrest, eyelids feeling heavier than they had when you woke up as you stared at the man you thought you knew sitting across from you. His living room had settled to a silence that made your stomach hurt. His usually dark room was lit in gray, muting the rare spots of color across his walls in pictures and on the blanket at your feet.

You still had things on your mind, but his face was heavy with questions. You reached out a hand to him, drumming your fingers on the cushion until he lazily reached up and touched them before drawing back into himself.        

“Why did you get on top of me and-” He mumbled something under his breath, something about your shirt and your fingers and you could see pink across his cheeks. You tried to sink into the couch. Part of you was hoping he’d forgotten about that part of it, you wished he would have been so far gone that maybe he wouldn’t remember you grinding against his lap and having his hand wander from your lips to your chest.

“I’m really sorry about that.” It felt like an invisible weight was crushing down on you as you tried to cover your face remembering everything you did, how his body reacted. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, you were unsure if it was because of the fever or the embarrassment. “It was completely inappropriate and unfair to put you in that position.”

“Yeah.” You heard his voice next to you, sounding almost zoned out.

“I don’t know if it makes you feel better or worse, but a lot of the things I did were because I kept hoping it was a dream and that you’d, I don’t know, turn into Morrison, I guess?” You were talking fast, trying to save yourself, trying to reason with yourself. 

“That-” He shifted on the couch. “That makes me feel worse.”

“Shit. Sorry.”

This seemed like it was only opening wounds that were already scabbing over, you wondered if this was causing you both far more harm than it was good. He was hurt. You were hurt. God, you wished you could talk to Morrison about this. He'd probably blow his lid if he knew about what was happening to Gabe, about what he did to you, about what he knew Morrison did. 

“I’m sorry about your phone.” You could still see the shattered screen sitting lifeless on his side table, flipped facing up and cracked all different directions. 

“I don’t care about the phone.” His voice was sharp, eyes dark when they looked into yours. You tried to swallow but your throat felt dry.

Fuck it. If he was going to choke you, nearly to death, you could ask whatever you want. You weren't stupid. You've seen the way he looks at you when he thinks you can't see. You've seen the huffed breaths when you chose to leave Blackwatch to spend time with Morrison. You needed to know.  

“I need you to be honest with me, Gabe. How much of what happened that night was influenced by how fucked up you were?”

“What are you trying to ask me?”

“The smoke, your paranoia, I understand those were side effects from SEP and Moira, but would you have touched me like that-" All you could think about were his eyes on your body, focused on your lips around his fingers, his large hand grabbing at your chest. 

"Oh." He breathed out closing his eyes and straining his neck muscles.

"Would you have stopped me if we had both been stone cold sober?” You could still feel the way he bucked his hips when you circled yours. 

Something in the way he looked at you, a feeling in your gut told you that you really didn't want to actually hear the answer to that.

This isn't what you wanted, not from him. 

“I think you're the most ruthlessly beautiful woman, with one of the sharpest minds I've ever known, and I'm deeply honored to be your part time commander. But you're Jack's girl. Even when you two were fighting each other I always knew you'd never look at me in that kind of way, you never did, and I'd never do anything to hurt him like that, that's just not the kind of person I am-”

“Gabe, answer me clearly.” You were sick of the stalling. His eyes looked so deeply into yours you almost forgot about the empty mugs and the snow piling in the window.  

“Maybe if things were different, if Jack wasn't involved, no. I wouldn't have stopped you.”

You sucked in a breath, unsure what exactly to feel now.

“I'm not saying that I've been harboring feelings for you or anything, it's just-” He looked like he wanted to stop talking but couldn't. “I think if maybe we met at a different time, or under different circumstances, maybe we could have taken over the world together if we wanted to.” He had a small smile on his lips as he shifted his eyes down to stare at his hands and twitched his fingers. "Sorry. That sounded cheesy. It's the truth though."   

You nodded your head, skull suddenly feeling a hundred pounds heavier and like a coil holding it up in your neck was about to break.

“I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have asked-”

“He doesn’t deserve you.” Gabe's voice was quiet when he cut you off. He bit the inside of his lip and shook his head. 

“Do you think you do?”

There was a long pause. A silence that answered for him.

“No.” He finally said, lowering his eyes to the ground. “You deserve so much better than this. Than me, or Jack, or Jesse. You deserve better than Blackwatch. Better than Overwatch. We’re only holding you back." He dropped his head to his hands, cupping his face with his palms as his voice wavered. "Fuck. You've come so far from when we first met, and now I'm dragging you down with me-”

“You’re breaking my heart, Gabe.” You said with a cracking voice. Your chest felt heavy, like you’d been crying for weeks and were just taking your first breath.

“I just-” It's always _justs_ , it's always _buts_ , it's always _something_. “I want to know that you’re happy, and _safe_ and it fucking kills me that I’m now just one of the people in your life that hurt you."

"Gabe-" Fuck. Fuck. Please Gabe, don't sound like this, your heart already hurt enough. Today was too much. 

"Does Jack make you happy?” He turned to look at you with watering eyes. 

“He does, Gabe. He really does. And I know everyone thinks he's just some stupid guy who's using me but he's the one I want to spend every day with, it hurts me so deeply that I can't share this with him and I feel so fucking guilty about it. He's been nothing but good to me and although I know you guys have my best interest at heart, I'm more scared of hurting him than I am of him hurting me. I love him. I love him, and that stupid farm, and that stupid blue jacket of his. I love him, Gabe.”

“If he-”

“You don't need to protect me. Not from him.” You set your empty mug on the floor next to the couch, aggressively scooting over to Gabe until you were right next to him. He looked so sad, like he was in pain, as you lifted his arm and brought it around your shoulders while you curled against him. His forearm crossed your collar, hand gripping to your shoulder. “I think it's time for me to help you, now. I want to help you figure out how to control it.”

“No, that's too dangerous.” He squeezed you.

“I'll armor myself up, I'll ask that short engineer to make me special stuff if I have to. Gabe, I don't want you to ever lose control like that again. You need a backup plan if shit goes south and Moira's tests don't work.” Your face turned into his chest, hands holding on his arm like he'd disappear into smoke in a second.  

"I can't live with myself if I hurt you again." His fist was balling against his leg, nails digging into the palm of his hand. You could hear his teeth gritting in anger at himself. 

You stared up at him with wide eyes under twisted brows knowing he wouldn't, couldn't, take the help without a push. 

“We have to trust each other again. You have to trust me, I will help you control this.” You shifted until you sat sideways facing him, holding his arm and dropping both of your hands to wrap around one of his. You took your time bringing his hand up, trying to let him process what you were doing.

“Please-” Gabe whispered your name, almost begging you not to.

Carefully, you pressed his fingers at the side of your throat. He tried to stop his fingers from touching you, but you curled around him until his palm was flush against the soft skin of your neck. He looked like he was going to be sick, his lip curled in disgust and eyes closed tight. You were sure he could feel your racing pulse in your veins, heart pounding so hard it was the only thing your ears could hear. You were catching sobs in your chest, your body wanting him nowhere near you, but you soldiered through it until his whole hand laid against you neck. 

“I'm scared, but I trust you.” Your voice croaked.

In all your time working under him, you'd never seen him look this terrified. Not during his interrogation, not while he had strangled you before, not on body cameras while the Blackwatch team was on missions cutting it close to death. His breathing came in hard loud sputters through his nose as his wide pupils focused in on your hands gently cradling his against you.

"I'm so sorry." His voice was small. "I'm so sorry for doing that to you."

"Don't ever fucking put your hands on me again." You said with anger, but face softened with worry. 

"I won't, and if you ever think I will, you need to know how to take me down." He was nodding his head. "We need to work on that first, need to get your hand to hand up to par before we ever start trying to work on me, okay? You'll need to keep weapons on you, ones I don't know about so you can put me down if you have to, I will not allow myself to be a threat to you." The muscles in his neck were tensing and you could see his vein pulsing with blood racing from the adrenaline of agreeing to work on controlling a part of him he's tried to run from for so long.  

You could have cried from happiness, and you nodded as you sucked in your smile and squeezed his fingers. His thumb slid up to your cheek, not wanting to give himself a chance to wrap around your neck like he had before.

“Your face is warm.” The rest of his hand followed, he flipped it and pressed the backs of fingers to your forehead as his face twisted with worry. “Are you feeling okay? You definitely have a fever.”  

You hesitated. You've been telling everyone you're just a little under the weather, been faking a head cold when you know deep in your gut that it's more than that. 

"Here." You shoved your hand in your pocket and stiffly held out the end of the cookie packet for him to take, he looked at you with a raised eye brow, slowly taking it from your hand. "I'll go get checked out with the doctors, and you mull over what kind of spars you want to start on as you eat these. Just like you used to when you stole them from my tray at lunch when we first met." 

"Chocolate chip." He turned them over, both hands dropping to examine the package. There it was, finally a real smile, one that reminded you of who he was before all this. "Thank you-" He sighed out your name. 

"Thank you for the hot chocolate." You said standing and smoothing out your pull over. "Things are weird and scary, right now, but I think it can only get better from here. You mean a lot to me Gabe, and I'm not going to let one little strangulation get in the way of that." 

His chest sunk in as he dropped back against the couch. 

"No, please, too soon for jokes." 

"Sorry. I'll head out now, see you soon okay? Let me know when all the Blackwatch boys get together for a movie or something, I'll join you." You were trying to act normal but your heart was beating almost out of your skin, so hard you could feel it across your body and down into the soles of your feet. He stood, you think to try to hug you goodbye but you darted to his door. "Bye, Gabe." 

You heard him respond as the door snapped shut behind you. Your shirt was practically stuck to your back, wet in places and staying on your skin. You tried to lift your hair off your neck to cool off, tried to fan yourself as you walked.  

To your credit, you did leave to see a doctor.

Just, maybe not the one you should have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to all my Gabriel Reyes hoes ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	21. Promises, Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrison keeps up on one promise and makes you another.

“I must say, I’m surprised to see you back.” Moira had on her lab coat, she pushed goggles that needed to be cleaned over her eyes to her forehead as she spoke. Your heart pounded knowing this was wrong, knowing you shouldn’t be here, knowing this could only go badly.

“I don’t have much choice. I think I'm having side effects, Moira. You need to fix this.” You pulled off your blue pullover, piling it on a stool set aside next to the door. Her mismatched eyes ran over your body, examining the sweat sticking your standard issue tshirt to your skin.

“I’m not the kind of doctor that treats fevers.” She deadpanned at you, lowering the goggles and shifting back to her work.

“That’s too fucking bad because you’re treating this one.”

“I’m busy.”  She snapped back to you, shooting you a glare beneath the protective eye gear. You stalked over to her, standing too close and making her body curl away from yours. “Get away from me.” She hissed, her long nails lingered across her cheek as she hesitated to lift the goggles.

She was sat in front of an open petri dish with a pale yellow liquid in it, next to that small droppers of other unrecognizable fluids.

Fuck. Her. In the time you've known her, worked with her, she has always treated the people around her like rats trapped in a cage. Cold eyes examining every interaction, every reaction. That's all she fucking cares about, her stupid fucking research and her stupid fucking experiments. You locked your gaze to her, grabbing the dish between your fingers and hocking as much spit as you could manage into it. She stared in absolute horror as you lowered it back down in front of her. The yellow liquid seemed to completely absorb your saliva, encasing it in an almost gel like substance.

“You’re going to fix me, and you’re going to fix Gabe. I’m going to help you with your experiments, on my terms. You’re not going to tell him, or so help me god Moira, I will burn every note in here, I will hack into all of your research files and delete them. I will throw that safe in your room to the bottom of the ocean. If you ever hurt, or threaten, me or my family again I will do absolutely everything in my power to strip you of your doctorate, your funding, every fucking thing that you actually care about until you’re rotting away bored and alone in a jail cell.”

Her face was paled, eyes wider than you’d ever seen them before. For once, you saw real emotion on the usually collected woman’s face. You saw fear. Fear for just a moment, but a couple deep inhales changed her face to devilishly delighted.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you. So much fire, drive.” She pushed the goggles into her hair, standing tall just inches away from you. She towered above and you almost had to catch yourself from falling back remembering how much she lumbered over you. “If only Gabriel could understand how beneficial you would be to my research. His limits on my tests are only holding him back. I’m sure you have a full understanding that he would prefer we no longer work together?”

“I am going to help him, even if that means trusting you.” You responded coldly. Adrenaline was coursing through you, heart beating like a hummingbird's wings in your chest. Your body was telling you to run, but you stood tall, holding your shoulders back and your chin up as you stared her in the eyes.

“Well then, we have no time to waste.” A wicked smile spread across her face, head cocking to the side examining a bead of sweat rolling down your forehead. “Now, let’s get you all fixed up.”

She sat you down in a chair at the corner of her lab, the arm cushion on the right was ripping with deep nail marks from a large grip at the end. Your mind filled in the gaps with unsettling imagery of Gabe holding onto the arm rest as Moira pumped him full of drugs that made his body tense in pain.

Moira started with taking samples of your blood, enough vials to make you woozy and lean light headed against the headrest. She placed small bags of ice wrapped in paper towels on you, one between your neck and the backrest, another on the spot she drew blood from at your arm, and a third in your palm so you could move it around where you needed it. The cool sensation felt nice against your forehead and your stomach. As you gained your strength back she lifted one of your fingers, patiently waiting until you were watching her, then pricking a thin needle between your middle fingernail and the skin.

It stung and sent a shiver of pain over your body that made you tremble in the seat until you realized you were no longer sweating and the melted ice bag hung loosely between your fingers to the side of the chair.

“I do not wish to make you uncomfortable. If there’s anything you need during these visits, please ask me.” She brushed hair out of your face and removed the bags. “I understand asking you to come through daily, even weekly, would be unreasonable. Perhaps twice a month will be enough data? Unless, of course, you’d like to visit more often than that.”  

You stayed silent as you stared at her through judgmental lowered lids. Whatever she gave you made your body feel a normal temperature again. You could feel the cold air and the pockets of heat pushing through the ceiling vents. You wanted to feel Morrison’s warm hands on your back, soft lips and 5 o’clock shadow leaving trails across your shoulders now that your skin didn’t feel like it had a layer of permanent sweat across it.

“What did you inject me with?” You asked as you swung your legs off the chair.

“Based on Gabriel’s delayed reactions to similar experiments I’ve given him, I believe you’re experiencing internal overheating due to an increase of particular enzymes in your bloodstream, your body is likely reacting to similarly how it would react to bacteria. You’ll need to wait until I can isolate the exact cause to treat it, so for now I’ve injected a serum that maintains your heartbeat at a slow pace, effectively forcibly cooling you off.”

Ugh. Your head hurt just listening to that.

“Is it going to take away my ability to feel again?”

“Those were two separate serums. The one you are referring to was… destroyed.” She gave you an annoyed glance from the side of her eyes. Somehow you guessed that talk Gabe had with Moira wasn’t just a talk.

You wiped the remnants of sweat from your forehead, the back of your hand now able to properly assess the temperature of your face now that it didn't feel like all of your skin was overheating. She carefully filed your blood samples away in a discreet pocket on her belt as she held her hand out to you. 

“Do you need help standing?”

“Don’t pretend like you care.” You said bitterly as you pushed yourself upright. She turned from you, tightening her tie close to her throat and checking her dress shirt buttons, face twisting as if she was holding her tongue.

You stood next to the door, flapping the edge of your shirt to let in air. She watched you over her shoulder as you brought the blue strike team pull over back around your top, smoothing it in place and adjusting the hood around your neck.

“Take it easy over these next few days.” She said, twirling a pen in her fingers. “Give yourself extra time to rest, try to let your body adjust without overexerting.” Her voice was alarmingly gentle.    

You offered her no goodbye, no thank you, or any form of audible communication. Instead you shot her a pointed look as her lab door snapped shut behind you and your body wandered into the hallway.

* * *

 

The sun was almost setting when you finally decided to walk back to Morrison’s room. Lacroix entered with you in the elevator, avoiding your eyes in the mirrored walls while he spoke quiet salutations in French to a feminine voice on the other end of a phone call before nervously twisting the phone between his hands.

“Captain.” He finally said a few floors up with a small nod.

“Commander.” You nodded back, both hands shoved in your front pocket.

“I need to apologize to you, for a comment I made-”  

“Please, sir. It’s alright, we don’t need to discuss it.” You said with cheeks burning, knowing this time it was definitely from embarrassment, both because of the drug Moira injected and from your reddened face reflecting back at you. He paused sucking in his cheeks, clearly debating if he should try to continue this or not.

You cracked your knuckles loudly, filling the uncomfortable silence until you both exited on the same floor. You paused, letting him walk ahead of you just enough hoping that he wouldn’t know you were holding your breath hoping to avoid addressing the comment he made in his hospital bed. With a tight nod to Lacroix as a goodbye, you keyed in Morrison’s code and found him still dressed in his combat pants and tight uniform shirt.

He smiled at you brightly while he walked through the room, holding both your toothbrushes and other small toiletries in his hands as he quickly paced into the bedroom. Curious, you followed him in, leaning against the door frame and putting a hand on your hip.

“You seem suspiciously chipper.” You said eyeing down two travel bags laying open on his bed. He looked to you with a smirk, meticulously packing the bags to be perfectly ordered. He hasn’t looked this happy after a long day in a while, you almost wondered if all the pressure Overwatch was putting on him was finally making him crack and he was deciding to run away.

“I wanted to surprise you with a weekend trip.” He stood tall, presenting his packing job in the bags. You smiled back at him unable to stop the surprised glee from spreading across your face. “I figured since things have been pretty rough it might be nice to get away from the base before we get back into routine.” He was rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, almost sounding unsure about it as he said it out loud.

“That sounds incredible.” You could cry right now. He caught you in a jump to a hug, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck, his circled at your waist lifting you in the air until his lips pressed against yours.

You double checked the bag, finding he packed all your casual clothes (which to be fair, wasn’t much, mostly leggings and tshirts). He packed your things from his bathroom, your charger, everything you’d need for a quick trip. His arms held both your bags as you walked hand in hand with him to the transportation bay on base, climbing into an incognito car, zooming out of HQ and into Swiss countryside.

Snow continued to fall as darkness did over the horizon. Morrison told you all about the plans he was making for the strike teams, upcoming missions, diplomatic events he didn’t want to attend but was obligated to, media appearances he's required to do once the news is no longer running daily stories about the no longer secretive Blackwatch branch. You listened to him as his hand softly stroked the outside of your thigh, almost unconsciously, while he continued talking and you smiled at him. You got so caught up in just hearing him talk about his day that before you knew it, you were pulling into the front of an old wood building, partially buried under snow with omnic workers shoveling and salting the snow on the steps to the door.

Even in the darkness of night time the white capped mountains stood bright against the sky, blurred only by the heavy falling snow. He held his arm out to balance you as you stepped out of the car and onto the icy walkway, he tucked both bags under his other arm as he walked you into the grand front doors.

Just inside was a cozy entryway, dimly lit apart from the light shining in a backroom behind the small check in desk. To the side of the desk was a long room, filled with deep colored woods with oversized chairs and couches around a fireplace that was larger than anyone would ever need. Quiet couples with steaming mugs and dark liquid drinks sat snuggled together sporadically throughout the room. Off in the corner, next to a small section of curling cafe chairs and tables with seating for two was a pastry counter, and opposite that, a grand piano.

Towering above the seating area were stories of hallways leading up to a pitched roof and extravagant iron lights hanging heavy from the ceiling. The wall with the front door was almost entirely glass, floor to ceiling panes looking out to the natural landscape, guaranteeing a view of the sweeping mountain ranges even outside the hotel rooms. For how grand the sitting room was, you could see the hotel itself only had a measly selection of doors in the hallways leading up opposite the glass wall, twenty, maybe thirty rooms tops, you guessed.

“I think you may have gone a little overboard on the choice of hotel?” You mused to him as your eyes followed the dark wood beams crisscrossing as support through the glass windows. He bit his lip smiling down at you and he greeted a woman behind the counter in broken Swiss German, apologizing for being late to the reservation. They had a brief conversation as she handed him the keys and she said something to you, something you couldn’t understand but you guessed it was well wishes for your stay and you nodded politely and smiled at her trying to say thank you.

He kept a gentle hand on the small of your back as he guided you to a moody elevator and rode in anticipated silence to the top floor. You stood nervously biting your lower lip as he kissed the top of your head and scanned the key to get into the room.

You let out an audible gasp when the double doors to the room opened.

“Jack! This is way too much.” You ran your hands over your face and through your hair, eyes bouncing across everything in the room.

Lavish would have been an understatement. The room still kept the theme of dark woods and oversized furniture, rich colors contrasting against the bright white snow hitting the window. The double door entry lead to a small living room with a deep red fainting couch framed by the window and accented with plush reading chairs. A small table was set for four, with fresh flowers in a cubed dark vase. Against the far wall was the widest bed you’d ever seen, a dark wood frame creating a grand image of a frame around it and matching curled bedside tables held large ornate iron lamps.

Your eyes fell to Morrison who looked absolutely out of place in all of the dark colors in the room, blond hair shining against them like a spot light. You realized his hair was getting too long on top of his head, strands falling out place looser around his forehead now. He was staring at you, unable to wipe a stupid wide smile off his face as he watched your reaction.

“We won't be alone for a while, so I wanted this to be special.” He dropped the bags and held your face bringing you in for a heated kiss. You almost got lost in him, arms wrapped around him with a smile pressed to his lips, but you caught yourself.

“Wait, what do you mean we might not be alone for a while?” You recoiled your head back, arms still locked around his neck. He sighed, pecking the tip of your nose and running thumbs over your cheeks.

“I’m going to be visiting the Watchpoints over the next few months, director's orders to save face with the other branches. Since there’s no official reason to bring you along, you’ll be staying at HQ working with Ana and Gabe while I’m gone.” His eyes were sad, fingers moving the hair out of your face.

You hugged him tight, burying your face in the crook of his neck. There was a hollow sadness that struck through your stomach knowing you’d be separated for a while again, but a creeping guilt ate away at your insides knowing now you wouldn’t have to find an excuse to slip away from him to work with Gabe or to meet Moira.

“You’ll call me every day?” You asked, muffled against the collar of his uniform shirt. He was squeezing you tight, swaying you in his arms.

“Every hour if you want me to.” He smiled against you as he kissed you again.

His body dipped down, strong hands gripping the backs of your thighs and lifting them into the air around his hips as you held tightly to his neck and let out a heavy breath on his lips when you hooked your ankles at his back.

You giggled as his hands wandered under your pull over, under the fabric of your shirt and held you, warm hands against the skin of your back making you arch against him. He was so strong, lifting you and holding you in the air like this felt like it was nothing to him. He brought you down against the edge of the bed, you refused to unhook your legs and he smiled back at you, wiggling his hips against yours.

“You seem like you’re feeling better. Did your talk with Gabe go okay?”

“He’s an ass and we’ve still got some stuff to work out, but I think everything will be okay.” Technically, not a lie.

“Good, I could tell it was hurting you to avoid him.” He kissed you again, and again, each time deeper as his body pressed against yours and you tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach of lying by omission.

“Hey.” You said softly, dropped your hands next to your head. He pulled back from you, icy eyes against a dark ceiling shining bright as they looked into you and felt like they saw your soul. “I love you.” You breathed out. He chuckled as his lips lowered to your cheek, placing a barrage of kisses across your face.

“I love you too.”

He took his time with you, running his hands along the curves of your body, fingers lingering on your scars with traces of his lips on your skin. You kept your legs around his hips as he slipped off your shirt and pullover, arching your back and rolling your head against the soft comforter beneath you and moaning with his touch. You could feel how tight the front of his pants were against you and you teased by flexing your thighs around him, tightening the hold. You could hear him chuckle under his breath as he stood to his full height, raising your hips with his and squishing your shoulders at an awkward angle onto the bed. He shimmied off his shirt as you dropped your legs down heavy onto the edge of the bed with a happy sigh.

“Tired?” He asked lying next to you, fingers roaming across your rib cage and twisting your body towards him. You traced the outline of his collarbone, dipping down over the defined muscles of his chest and abs as your heavy eyes followed the line.  

“Only a little.” Your hand circled his hip, fingers caressing and playing with the edge of his pants. “Listen, you don’t have to bring to fancy hotels or anything just to spend time alone with me.”

“I wanted to spoil you.” Pink flushed his cheeks as he smiled and ran a hand over your chest making you roll against him. “That, and I made a promise to you a long time ago that I intend to keep.”

“A promise…?” You were pretty sure he never promised you romantic hotels nestled in snow covered mountains, now would you have ever requested it from him. He leaned forward, scooting until his face was close to yours, noses touching just barely, smirking that stupid commander smirk at you.  

“I love you.” He smiled and kissed you again and this time your hands were already pulling down your leggings, your body aching for his hands all over. It didn’t take long for him to join you, boots kicked off, pants and belt strewn across the soft carpet.  

His kisses smothered you with happiness, your body no longer radiating from fever, instead warming with every grip around your waist and whispered declaration of love. You tangled your bodies together, whimpering sweet encouragements and breathing out pleads of joy through your passions.

He took you as your hands drew up and down his back and your forehead pressed into his collar. He groaned low and rolled his hips against yours as your body followed his with every thrust into you like a new breath. Yours eyes locked with his, flickering needily between them and his lips as he tortured you with slow deliberate snaps of his hips, watching you with a smile until you were practically begging for him to go faster, desperately trying to make your own pace. It was a frantic need, working to get each other off after too many nights of being too tired to get lost like this.   

You ran your hands through his hair that needed a haircut, up the back of his skull, messing up the blond locks as much as you could when he kissed you hard and gasped against your mouth. You were moaning without holding back as he spilled his seed in you and you followed close behind, catching your breath and twisting your body against the bed with dazed satisfaction. 

Afterwards, he dropped heavy to the bed next to you, smiling to himself and rubbing his hand along the curve of your upper thigh. In the silence you could only think about the things everyone else said about your relationship with him, about being locked in his room and being used only for his own desires. 

“Jack Morrison-” You said with a soft tone. He looked to you in blissful confusion upon hearing his name like that. “What kind of relationships did you have before me?”

“Not great ones, if I'm going to be honest with you.” A smile still lingered on his lips slowly disappearing, stomach occasionally jumping with shuddered breaths as he came down from his natural high.

“Why’s that?”

“I could never commit to someone.” His face was lost in thought. “I… used to sleep around a lot. Especially in my early days as commander, when all the attention was new and still exciting.” He looked to you, chewing his lip, shame written across his face. “Gabe and Ana give me a lot of flak about it. I wasn't exactly discreet with what I was doing and, now, I realize I broke a lot of hearts and made a lot of decisions that could have resulted in some bad publicity for Overwatch.”

“Like what?” You held your chin in your hand as you flipped over on your stomach so you could watch him. He hesitated to answer, eyes turning to the side to avoid yours.  

“Cheating, mostly. There was one girl I was seeing fairly regularly, a diplomat's daughter who I protected on a mission and hit it off with, but even when I was with her I couldn’t say no to anyone who threw themselves at me. She had pictures, videos, threatened to release them all when she found out.” You could see the shame on his face, the way his nostrils flared like they do when he gets too emotional and was trying to hold it in. 

“Jesus, Jack.”

“I know. After Overwatch got involved and I got sat down by the directors and basically told to keep it in my pants, I cooled off, there wasn’t a thrill anymore.”

“What happened to her?” You weren't really positive you actually wanted to know. 

“From my understanding, the legal team worked their magic. Last I heard, she’s married with a few kids now.”

There was a pocket of silence. His eyes flashed to yours, teeth nervously biting at his lip. 

“Did you love her?” You asked quietly. 

“No.” His answer was immediate. “I made that very clear, to her and everyone else. I… used to talk about her in very degrading ways. Part of what I’ve learned from everything in my life is that it’s not just my actions that have consequences, it’s my words too. I think that’s why Gabe and everyone don’t think I’m right for you, they don’t trust that I’ve grown from my mistakes.”

This is not the kind of conversation you expected to be having a nine o’clock at night on a bed that probably costs more than your monthly salary, naked, and staining the bedspread with fluids leaking out of you.    

“I love you so much. I know what I did in the past may make you doubt my sincerity, but you’re the only person I’ve ever felt such a deep connection to and I am definitely not that kind of person anymore.” He sat up, holding your hands in his as he stared into your eyes. “I’ve never in my life felt this way about someone, I didn’t know I _could_ feel the way I do about you.”

You looked to your arm, examining the scars across your skin. For being such a smart guy he seems to learn all his lessons the hard way. 

“I appreciate you being honest with me. That actually explains some things people have said to me about-” You motioned your hand between both of you. “This.”

He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles with a gentle smile. You bit your lip, wondering if now would be an okay time to ask him other things that weighed heavy your mind. You stared at your hands, nails digging into cuticles, neither of you quite knew what to say, how to move forward with a heavy conversation like this.  

“Jack, what’s the end goal here?” You nervously chewed at the soft spots of your lip with worried brows.

He paused, face lifting with surprise that you asked. He looked so serious, even with his blond hair flopping over his forehead matted with sweat.  

“I was hoping we would be together, through everything.” He answered softly as he ran his hand over his face, blinking and staring out the window at the softly falling snow. “I don't know- Ah, I don't want to scare you.”

“Scare me?”    

“Well, I’ve still got a long time before retirement and I know your contract is tied to mine, but, I don't know, I was hoping maybe after we're done with all the Overwatch bullshit that, um-” His voice was shaky, hands nervously wringing together. “I was hoping, um-” His hand was trying to cover his pinked face. “You know what, it’s stupid, never mind.”

“What on earth are you so hesitant to say to me?” You chuckled as you leaned forward trying to ease the tension, using your thumb to gently guide his face to yours. “Come on Strike Commander, out with it.” You saw his chest shudder as his eyes flickered to you.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you.” His face was twisted with worry. 

“Jack, these last few months have been some of the most overwhelming of my life and I’ve lived through them. I can handle it.” You dropped your hand to his, lightly squeezing as you watched him ready himself with a deep exhale of your name.

“When I’m done with Overwatch- when _we’re_ done with Overwatch, I was hoping you would move in with me. To the house in Indiana, and, well, I don’t know, I was also hoping we could maybe make things official? We don’t have to, you know, if you don’t want-”

“Are you asking me to marry you when you retire?” You had to catch your breath as you asked. 

He sucked in his cheeks, blush burning the tops of his ears poking out through the blond locks.

“Yes. Yeah.” He let out another long breath. “If you’d want that? I am. Sorry, I know that’s dumb, I’ll be an old man and you’ll probably be sick of me, it’s still so far away and completely unreasonable to ask you to wait for me." He groaned loud into his palm. "This was way too much to ask. Oh my god, I’m so sorry-”  

He brought his knees to his chin, burying his face in his palms. You shifted on the bed, draping your body over his back, holding him and letting your face fall against the back of his neck. You could feel your eyelashes dragging across his skin as you closed them, his body shivering at the light sensation.

“That, actually, sounds nice.” You whispered against him. “Really, really, nice.” His back was rising and falling with hard breaths as his hands gripped your arms, thumbs moving in small happy circles. “Mrs. Morrison.” You mused under your breath as you smiled against him, placing a kiss on the back of his neck and his hands responded in turn with squeezes moving up your arms.

His body twisted to face yours bringing you in for a deep kiss, his fingers snaking into the back of your hair. When you fluttered open your eyes as he parted from you, glossy blue eyes stared into yours, wet with emotion.

“I know it’s a long ways away, if things change, if you want to move on from me, I’ll understand.” He lifted you, bringing you into his lap, legs on either side of his as his hands ran up and down your back. “You make me so happy. So, so happy. I don’t deserve you.” He buried his face in your chest, holding you in a tight hug. You fingers slipped into his hair, running along his scalp with gentle pets.

“When you're getting ready to retire I want a real proposal. Down on a knee, a ring, a speech you'll forget, the whole thing.” You laughed and he looked up.

“I promise.” He smiled. 

You kissed him. You wanted to keep kissing him, hoping he didn’t taste your secrets, hoping your mouth would stop your heart from wanting to admit to everything that’s happened since you came back from the farm.

“Come on-” He set you down on the bed and brought your shirt back over your shoulders, following with the pull over and leaving you to climb back into your leggings as he jumped into his own pants. “Follow me.”

Lazily dressed and uncaring about messed up hair you both walked to the elevator. Your body leaned against his on the ride down, his arm circled at your midsection, loosely holding you against him while you waited to reach the lobby floor.

It felt strange to have him be openly affectionate to you in such a public place, but no one seemed to even offer either of you a second glance as your fingers laced with his and he walked you to the far side of the room. He sat on a plush love seat that looked towards the oversized fireplace, inviting you to sit close next to him. At his side you curled under his arm, letting your legs drape over his lap. A short man who spoke fast took drink orders from Morrison, who responded to him still with blush across his cheeks.

The fireplace was radiating warmth through the room, Morrison’s hands were warm around your body as you nuzzled him. For once, it felt nice to be warm. The short man returned with tiny steaming mugs and as you tasted it you realized you were having your second cup of hot chocolate that day. It wasn’t as good as Gabe’s, but it would do just fine.

You stayed there for a while, resting your head against Morrison’s chest, sipping the hot chocolate and warming your palms against the mug. His free hand held your back, fingers slipping beneath the edge of your pull over and rubbing gently on your skin against your lower spine making you smile and sigh happily.  

“I actually did have a reason for choosing this hotel.” Morrison said with a smirk on his face as he drank his last sips.

“I’d love to know it.” You smiled and kissed the edge of his jaw. He dropped his lips to meet yours, kissing you until you almost forgot about the drink in your hand, catching it just before the last few drops spilled onto your legs.

His hand left you, taking your mug and setting it on a nearby table. You twisted in the chair and watched as he circled around the piano in the corner of the room, he sat cracking his knuckles as he eyed the keys.      

He chewed his lip for a moment, contemplating where to start, or which song to choose. Icy blue eyes watched for your reaction as fingers slowly moved across the keys, getting a feel for the notes, one key at a time.

Gradually, he pressed more, soft and low chords as he hummed under his breath a song you didn’t recognize. Other couples in oversized chairs turned their heads to see who was trying their hand at music, many rolling their eyes and either going back to quiet conversations, others choosing to turn in for the night back in their rooms. He looked ridiculous swaying there, all dressed in his under armor uniform and messy bright blond hair, body large and imposing behind the face of the piano. You covered your mouth, face blushing in a deep pink and a wide smile behind your fingers. When he realized you were trying not to giggle he bit back his own laugh, accidentally hitting the wrong notes and fumbling through a few more measures.

He was beaming, unable to stop his grin as his eyes flickered between his moving hands and your gleeful face. He motioned his head, scooting to the edge of the seat, wanting for you to come join him. You joined at his side leaning your body against his and closing your eyes as you covered your blushing cheeks. His playing continued as he placed a kiss atop your head.

“I made you a promise I'd play for you when you proved you could handle combat again.” The song he was playing was pretty, low romantic notes carrying through the room making your heart fly, even through the fumbled ones. “Sorry it took so long.” He kissed the top of your head again.

Your eyes danced around as they watched his hands flex with each press of the keys. Your fingers gripped into his pants at his inner thigh, gentle squeezes trying to convey to him how much this meant to you. He stumbled over low notes, trying to hide his red faced embarrassment.

“It’s, um, been a couple years since I've played.”  

Your thumb rubbed in small circles at his thigh, happily twirling as you openly giggled and buried your face against his arm.

“I love it, Jack.”

He slowed the notes, face no longer looking at the keys, instead watching you until he stopped playing altogether and his body twisted towards you, moving a hand to your cheek, lips pressed to yours softly and kissing you deep and slow. It didn't take long for his arms to wrap around you, for yours to land around his neck and your body to arch into him. It was late into the night, but there were definitely still people around and he wasn't even trying to be shy about this.

“They're staring.” You whispered against his lips as your eyes cracked open to see a couple watching, faces looking like they were trying to remember where they'd seen you both before.

“Let them.” He smirked as he leaned you back and kissed you again.

“But the directors-” You gasped as you parted.

“I don’t care about them. I’m done with stupid rules and letting them control every decision I make.” The hand at your back was under your pullover again, holding you tight, fingers digging into your skin as he kissed you hard between confessions. “I want to hold your hand in public, kiss you anywhere we felt like it. I want you to be my plus one at charity events and see you all done up for a night out, I want to walk with you again on campus and tell you more about my family, there’s so much I want to do with you and I’m done with keeping you a secret, dammit. I love you.” Your body was melting against his, breathing unsteady with nerves and joy.

“Jack, let’s head back to the room.” You whispered against him, hand wandering up his leg. He threw you over his shoulder before you could protest in any way, big dumb smile across his face as you grabbed onto the back of his shirt and held on with a gasp as he carried you through the lobby, back to the elevators. The staring couple raised their eyebrows in surprise as you passed by with an embarrassed wave. You giggled as he lowered you to your feet when he pushed the button for your floor, you stayed pressed against his body leaning hard into his chest and humming broken notes from the tune he played.  

He was kissing you again before either of you could open the door. Locking together and giggling against lips as you both stumbled into the room. Your fingers snuck beneath the hem of his shirt, hand feeling every ripple of his muscles as you pushed the shirt up to his chest. His hand wandered beneath your waistband, fingers slipping back between wet folds and making your body writhe against him. He guided you back to the bed, practically ripping your clothes off you and returning to his favorite place.  

As his face was between your legs and your hands gripping into his hair, his phone rang a couple feet away lying face up on the bed. His mouth continued on you, one arm holding your leg against his face, the other dropping to search blindly for the phone until his fingers latched onto it.

He held it at a weird angle to check it and as his eyes read the screen you could feel a smirk spread across his face, you watched his thumb moving across the answer button and hand hold the phone lazily up to you. You hesitantly took it from him, bringing it to your ear as you glanced at the persons name, _Gabriel Reyes._    

“Hello?” You answered, trying desperately not to sound breathy. The response on the other end was a string of angry Spanish curses that almost brought you out of your fogged mind.

“Where the hell are _you?_ Jesse is losing his fucking mind because you’re not in your room, or in Jack’s room, and your fucking phone is off!” Shit. Your stomach sank. You didn’t even think to tell them you were off base.

“Fuck-” You said to both the man between your thighs curling fingers in you and the man on the phone with a deep voice. “I’m sorry, Jack and I, we’re-” You bit a hooked finger, holding in every moan that wanted to escape you. “We’re at some fancy hotel for the weekend.”

“You cannot disappear like that.” He sounded upset, but relieved.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You breathing hitched, voice getting higher on your last syllable as you slapped a hand over your mouth. “Gabe, we’re getting ready to go to bed, I’ll check in with you later, okay?” You asked in your most controlled voice.  

“Okay. Just. Don’t scare us like that again. Goodnight.” You could hear the heavy breath leave his nose as it hit the receiver.

With a quick goodbye you threw the phone towards the pillows and let out quite possibly the loudest moan you could manage from deep in your chest.

“Jack-” You whined. “What the hell, that was so mean-” You were panting, walls twitching hard against his fingers, clit throbbing on his tongue. “Do you know how hard it was to be quiet?” You moaned again. He was smiling, icy eyes flashing up to your blushed face.

He worked you, over and over again until finally you were falling apart, begging him for more, begging for him to hold you against the bed and take you. He happily obliged, roughly flipping your body over, pushing you to headrest and lifting your hips up to his. His hand pressed hard against your back making you arch back to him and you babbled out how good he felt in you, how he stretched and filled every inch of you, like he was made perfectly for your body. You were left moaning his title as he pulled your hair and manhandled you until you were twitching against him, being pushed over the edge with happy cries.

Your body was buzzing, legs feeling limp after your orgasm and he pulled from you finishing himself off on the small of your back, one hand gripping hard against the curve of your ass. You sighed happily feeling his body fall against the bed and his lips leaving traces of kisses down your scared arm.

“I love you.” You mumbled closing your eyes, exhausted.

“Love you.” He replied with a final kiss to your knuckles.    

It wasn’t until Morrison was heading into the bathroom, on his way to wet a washcloth to clean you with that you turned your heavy head to the side. Face down against the bedspread you could see the screen of his phone still lit. Casually you picked it up, only to realize there was an ongoing call to Gabriel Reyes. 31:22, 31:23, 31:24, the seconds ticked on as you stared dumbfounded at it, feeling all the color drain from your face. When Morrison came back in the room he raised a brow at you, eyes dropping to the screen which you held to face him.

‘JACK!’ You mouthed at him, pointing at the phone. His face lit up with silent laughter as he leaned over you, taking the phone and ending the call. As soon as he confirmed it was off, he was practically falling to the bed giggling.   

“Did you forget to press the end call button?” He finally got out through the fit. You groaned as you pressed your blushing face into the bedspread, hiding your embarrassment.

“Oh my god. I think I’m actually going to die if he heard any of that.” Of all the things you needed right now, _that_ was absolutely not one of them. You didn’t need another reason to feel weird around Gabe. Morrison continued his chuckling as he cleaned your skin, rubbing comforting hands over your shoulders afterwards as consolation.

“I wouldn't worry too much about it. He probably just left it in his pocket or something.” He gently flipped you over, bringing his SEP shirt over your body. “You look pretty sleepy. let's actually get to bed now.” He kissed your forehead and you curled under the sheets.

What a long fucking day. Your mind and body were completely exhausted from such a swing of extremes. As you laid in bed with your arms around Morrison's waist, your body pressed to his back, you realized something was off. You went through mental checklists trying to figure out why your mind wasn't settling down, why you couldn't get to sleep even though your body begged you.

Your heart.

Through everything with Morrison it dawned on you that not once did your heartbeat pickup. Through sex and serious talks, your breathing unsteadied but your pulse kept a consistent rate. You were hit with a wave of guilt, the man in your arms knew nothing about what you were doing behind his back to save your little family. You finally fell asleep when emotions flooded through you and your brain and body were too exhausted to face them.

* * *

 

In the morning you woke as Morrison stirred under your arms, no alarm, no knocking on the door. Just bright windows looking to vivid white capped mountains and dark woods in the room to contrast. Sleepy eyes looked at you with a half smile, whispered good mornings that made you feel warm. You showered with him, standing on your tippy toes and playing with his longer than normal hair. He ordered breakfast to the room so you could enjoy the view while wearing a fluffy robe hung from the back of the bathroom door.

The day was spent half naked talking about all the ways the farm house could be remodeled. Morrison wanted to repair a broken piano left behind from his mother in the loft upstairs, currently sitting lifeless and untouched behind piles and piles of boxes. You wanted to replace the wallpaper with him, maybe another floral pattern, but one more subtle than the current. You were looking up pictures of things you'd want at the house, showing each other cute ideas and useful things to put on a wish list, sometimes having to stop and remind yourself that you weren't just dreaming this all up.

He finally looked relaxed again. It was nice to see him with a smile instead of scowling around like he would through the halls of the office buildings on base. His shoulders were even down more, no longer squared to make himself appear bigger, instead he was sprawled out with you on a couch in the room as you talked about how nice it would be to no longer have Overwatch looming over you. He talked to you about SEP and the variety of people he met, you told him horror stories of your boot camp experience in comparison. You spent all day talking, all day laughing and feeling like normal people again. 

Before either of you knew it the sun was setting and you were both wrapped in blankets watching the sun dip behind the mountains with bright purple skies and bright orange clouds fading into darkness.

Finally getting dressed, hand in hand you walked to a nearby restaurant, both in your casual clothes which by normal standards were still somewhat uniform-like. You ate together and he openly locked his fingers with yours at the table and you both smiled as you ignored the civilians who attempted to take stealthy pictures. You laughed together knowing Petras would be calling as soon as he saw them, mouthing off about how irresponsible Morrison was being.

“What’s he going to do, separate us? I’m already going to be visiting other bases for months, other than yell he can't do much.” Morrison joked, but immediately tightened his hold on your hand knowing he actually was leaving soon and this would be his only chance with you for a while.

After dinner you both wandered a street with shops, restaurants and hotels, all their lights glittering against the ice and snow. You stopped to watch fresh taffy being made in the window of a candy shop, the smell of fudge pumping out from the door each time someone wandered in. As you walked slowly with him down the road you realized you had the same feeling you did when you walked with him on the campus back in Indiana. A warm feeling deep in your stomach that told you this was where you wanted to be. You stopped him, pulling him to the side out of the way of others down the sidewalk and you hugged him tight, burying your face in the front of his shirt and mumbling about wishing it could always be like this. His hands rubbed along your back, gripping onto you too and offering the only comfort he could provide knowing separation was inevitable.    

Back in the hotel room he sat you in his lap, fingers playing with the hair at the base of your neck as he left small sad kisses on any skin his lips could reach. In the morning it was back to base, and he'd be whisked off to the Watchpoints and away from you.

You took control of that final night together, kissing him slow, letting your hands wander across his body. He wanted you to take your time, to kiss him in every way you wanted to before you were separated. Your lips on his, across his cheek and his jaw, kisses down his throat and along his collarbone. He sighed into you with kisses across his chest, down his abdomen, over his hands and his fingers. Kisses between whispered ‘I love you’s, kisses filling in the gaps between you wishing he could stay, kisses that gave his skin goosebumps and his hand drop to the front of his lap.

It always astounded you how gentle he could be compared to how rough he could get with you. When he laid you against the bed he kissed at your neck, leaving small sucking marks on the curve down to your shoulder as he pressed fingers against your walls. He massaged the insides of your thighs as he went slow, filling you carefully, not to tease you, but to enjoy every moment, every little twitch as he entered you. His hand cradled the back of your neck, supportive fingers and soft eyes that watched every move you made, his breath hitching with yours as he kissed you. You could have stayed with him like that all night, giving yourself over to his body, to the way he worked you. 

He ran a bath for you, letting you soak and relax your muscles as he showered. Through the bathroom door you could see him checking his phone, typing back rapid messages or emails, sure it must have been Petras already on his ass, or notes about his upcoming travels.   

He cuddled against you as you fell asleep in the extra large bed, this time his large frame curling around yours, his arms holding you tight to his center. You could feel his steady pulse against your skin, your mind drifting to sleep as you counted his heartbeats.  

* * *

 

In the morning you woke to his shrill alarm on his phone, reminding him that today he was leaving and that you both needed to get back to base. You leaned against him on the ride back, voices quieter than usual as he told you how beautiful some of the Watchpoints were and that he’d send you pictures of his favorite spots.

Back on base, you both hurried to his room and you helped him pack for the long trip. He circled his commanders jacket around him and as you followed him out the barrack doors, to the drop ship bay, you realized commander jacket blue wasn’t making you sick anymore, that color blue was making your heart hurt knowing you wouldn’t see it again for a while. You had a brief internal moment where you remembered how much you hated seeing that jacket, and now you hated seeing it leave. 

It was loud next to the drop ship and your goodbyes were lost in the sound of roaring engines, yelled at each other through kisses as his jacket curled around you both and surprised faces of ground crew agents watched as your arms wrapped around his neck and he lifted you from the floor with a final deep kiss.

“I love you, I'll call you as soon as I can.” He said pressing his lips against your ear.

“Be careful out there commander, I love you.” You almost sobbed out as he placed you back on the floor and turned to hurry into the open doors of the ship. You were left standing alone, holding your scarred arm close to your body as you watched him waving at you through a small window looking out, left alone until the bay was back to the quiet buzzing of work instead of the sound of the engine.   

After he left you immediately went to the armory.

You happened upon the engineers in the process of working on new arm guards, some hunched over worktables, others discussing blueprints and giving you interested glances as you walked through the workshop. You made your way to the back of the armory, knowing requests like yours would need to be handled by someone who put all of their craftsmanship into what they made.

“Lindholm?” You called out in his work space, hoping he was here. He popped up from behind machinery it looked like he was disassembling.

“I’m not working on any new weapons for Blackwatch, they already have some of my finest work-” He started with a sour look on his face. 

“Sir, I’m actually hoping to ask you for special armor.”

He raised a brow at you, setting his tools down on the bench near him and moving to wipe black grease from his cheek, instead just spreading it across his skin.

“It must be pretty important if you’re bothering the chief engineer for it.”  

“Yes, sir.” You said chewing the inside of your cheek, bringing fingers to the base of your neck and pressing against the skin gently. 

“Well, out with it.” He picked up a pen, holding it above a bright yellow notepad.

“I was hoping to get armor to cover my neck under my uniform.” You said with a quiet voice. He looked to you with eyes that told you he knew why you were asking, or at least, could guess why. He didn't even write anything down, instead he nodded tightly and fished out a measuring tape from his desk drawer. He motioned for you to kneel down and you did so as you held your hair up. 

“There’s no shame in asking for that." He hesitated, holding the tape up to you. "Would you be more comfortable doing this on your own, or is this okay?" It hurt your heart that his man you barely knew was asking for permission to wrap the tape around your neck. 

"It's okay, go ahead." You said with a small nod. He was careful circling around you, hurrying back to his notepad to write down the measurements. 

"Give me a few days, I’ll make sure you’re all setup to withstand anything.”

You nodded your head in response, thankful he didn’t ask for more explanation or give you a hard time for making a special request that would normally have to go through reams of paperwork just to get started. With a thank you, you left to head to the training grounds, it was finally time to get back to business as usual.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone who reads my mess of a story, and especially to those those who leave kudos/comments/bookmark/subscribe/yell to the void at me on tumblr, because I am so thankful for each and every one of you and maaaaan I just love you guys and it makes me want to work harder on my chapters to give you guys more content!! I love you so much bbs! (´༎ຶ ͜ʖ ༎ຶ `)♡


	22. Soft Spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Morrison's away, it's time for reader to ~~play~~ get some shit done.

* * *

Sparring. That’s what you used to do in the mornings. Sparring with Blackwatch.

You felt like you were on auto pilot as your body carried you to the training grounds, through the double doors and into the lofty sparring room. Gabe and Jesse were already going at it, Gabe with Jesse in a headlock facing away from you, typical green sweatshirt off and tied at his waist revealing his tight black uniform shirt. Genji noticed you as you entered, motioning to join him at one of the bots which he was using a glorified punching bag.

“I’ve missed you.” You said quietly to him, stretching your arms behind you. His face plate was pushed over his head, you could see his hair had been freshly shaven. He didn’t speak. Instead his eyes guided you to the bot, offering his place to practice your jabs.

Slowly, you started punching motions. He stood off to the side with arms crossed, the new scar from Rome on his face almost healed now. He looked like he wanted to talk about something, but didn’t know how to broach the subject. He huffed and puffed, dramatically trying to get your attention without being forward about it. He probably wanted to talk about everything with Gabe, or the amount of people he killed in Venice on a revenge mission. After working yourself into a sweat you turned to him, placing your hands on your hips and scowling.

“Okay, stop pouting. What is it?” You were getting annoyed at his impatient noises.

“My family.” You shifted your weight, scared the next words out of his mouth would be that you solely destroyed the Blackwatch family. “I received news my brother has disassociated himself from the clan.”  

Oh.

Well, shit. How selfish could you be, thinking all his problems revolved around you?   

“Genji, are you okay? Do we need to put you under protective cust-”

“The connections to the Shimada clan said he left with nothing of our home. They said…” He looked away from you, to a corner of the room where no one else could see the pain on his face. “They said he refused to pick up the sword again after what he did to me. That he left with a note saying they chose the wrong brother. He disowned the family.”

You grabbed his hand, heart sinking to floor trying to imagine what he must be feeling. He squeezed your fingers in return, quickly bringing you into a tight hug, human hand shaking around you. You tried to hold him with care, tried to convey how much he meant to you with a never ending embrace.

“Nice to see you, sunshine.” Came a smiling drawl to your side after the sound of spurs hitting the cement floor approached you. You turned your head, face serious and shaking trying to tell Jesse now was not the time. He was clean shaven too, hair buzzed to his skull, mutton chops gone and all that was left of his facial hair being the soul patch beneath his lip. His expression dropped as he looked between both of you with a knowing nod.

Genji’s grip loosened, body turning away from Jesse as he took a step back from you. Gabe stopped behind Jesse, the top of his head shaved but his facial hair still prominent and his eyes purposefully avoided yours every time you glanced to him. Genji moved to wrap an arm around your shoulders, a surprising move he's never pulled with you before and he gently guided your body toward the double doors leading outside. As soon as you were away from everyone else, Genji pulled his arm back to his side and sank to the floor against the rough wall of the building. Freezing from the morning air you sat next to him, in front of you the track where Overwatch cadets were running morning laps in the cold temperatures.

The last time he spoke to you about his family Genji was drunk and lying in the meadow behind the barracks. That was when he told you all about his brother and why his body was the way it was. He was drunk and flushed and staring at the stars when he referred to the day Overwatch saved him as his new birthday and you listened to his story spill from his mouth.

Other than what he told you that night, you knew very little about his life before Blackwatch, very little about this man you considered part of your own family.

“Hopefully it’s not too patronizing to ask, but how do you feel about it?” You finally asked him after he was silent for far too long.

“I am…” His voice faded, losing himself to his thoughts. “Conflicted.” His body leaned towards you, head dropping to your shoulder. You could see the goosebumps across his skin from the cold, small hairs on his arm standing as his limb shivered.

“You don’t have to forgive him, Genji.” You said as softly as you could, resting your head on his.

“I wouldn’t know where to start even if I wanted to. Hanzo, my brother, did many horrible things to fall in line with our clan. Killing me was just another order for him to follow. I want to believe that no brother could do that to another, but-” His breath was warm on your shoulder, steady but heavy as you tried to offer him comfort in the silence.

“There are some things that can’t be undone.” You said with a voice colder than the air.

You were met with a grunted response and silence afterwards where he shifted uncomfortably away from you. Genji said your name with a puff of hot air ballooning in front of him.

“I do not know what happened between you and Commander Reyes, but I do know I cannot watch another one of my families tear itself apart. Will you be honest with me?”

You couldn’t turn to look at his face. You already knew there was pain written across it, pleads for you to just tell him the truth. He said your name again, the cloud of hot air drifting in your direction.

“Please, just tell me if he was the one who hurt you.”

You closed your eyes and leaned the back of your head on the ice cold wall behind you.

You could remember seeing Genji walking on new legs in the medical wing after they first brought him to HQ. A look of absolute hopelessness each time the technology buckled beneath him and you had to force yourself to look forward and pretend like you weren’t staring as you focused on regaining your grip strength. He probably had that same look on his face now.

“I can’t Genji.” Shit. Your voice was wavering, trying to hold back a lump in your throat. You realized how ominous that sounded and tried to save it. “I don’t remember it. I don’t remember anything.”

You turned to him and a tear fell down your cheek, shining brightly against the sun peaking through heavy gray clouds and reflecting back to him as it dropped to the ground. He held a bent knee to his chest, eyes following the line of miserable cadets around the track.

“I am choosing to believe you.” He said after a long time. He may say that, but his voice was wrought with doubt. You wanted to say ‘thank you’ but that would definitely do more harm than good. You've never been great at conversations with Genji. Even though you cared for him deeply he still guarded himself, still kept up some walls between you and everyone else.

Instead, after another lull and another few laps by the cadets you turned to him to change the subject and prod into another part of his life he usually kept from you.      

“How are things going with Dr. Ziegler?”

You could see the blush on his cheeks. His gaze averted away and the ends of his mechanical fingers played with pebbles on the asphalt below, he's always been to shy to discuss romances with you.

“Dr. Ziegler is doing… well. She is very kind to me, but she is frustrated by my progress. She believes Blackwatch is causing me more harm than good.” Honestly, you couldn't argue that. Moira has made no significant improvements on his bionic parts, Gabe was in no condition to judge mental states. Genji recently had a building fall on him and was compliant during an incident that killed over a hundred Talon agents in Venice. She was very much in the right to think that way.

You took a breath, but he continued before you could say anything else.

“Actually-” He stood, pushing himself from the floor and holding his hands out to you to help you up as well. “I think I should go talk to her.”

If you wouldn’t open up to him of course he wouldn’t open up to you, you can't expect openness when you are so unwilling to give it.

It hurt, but you understood and walked with him back to the sparring room, back inside where you found Jesse waiting for you on a bench at the far end of the room.

“Where’s Gabe?” You asked as Jesse stood.

“Went off to his office, said he had work to do. Since when did you start callin’ the man by his first name?” Asked Jesse suspiciously.

Quick. Think on your toes. Don’t say it’s because he strangled you. Don’t say it’s because there’s no line of professionalism with him anymore.

“He can have his title back when he starts acting like a commander again.” You said bitterly, lacing your response with half truth.

“Fair.” Jesse raised his eyebrows as he ran a hand over his newly shaved head. “You still mad at me and this bucket a bolts for takin’ part in that whole Antonio fiasco?” Jesse shook Genji lightly and was met with a disgruntled groan from him.

“I was never mad, Jesse. I was just-” You shifted your weight and tried to think of something that wouldn’t hurt either of them too much. “Discouraged that neither of you realized how fucking miserable you made my life the last couple weeks.”

“Trust me, our _beloved_ Blackwatch commander is makin’ damn sure we’re payin’ for it.” Jesse grumbled as he scratched where his muttonchops used to be. “Even though he’s the one who caused the whole mess.” He added, annoyed and under his breath. “Well, anyways. C’mon now, let’s head to commissary before those strike team vultures get all the fresh stuff.”

Genji followed silently behind you and Jesse until he parted with a quick and sudden goodbye, out the building and you guessed to the medical wing where Dr. Ziegler was.

“He tell you ‘bout his brother?”

“He did. That’s fucked, I honestly don’t know what I’d do if I was him. I’d be scared, maybe? You don’t think he knows he’s alive and is coming after him or something do you?” You were never good at hiding the worry on your face and Jesse rubbed small circles on your shoulder blade before he held the commissary door open for you.   

“All I know is, first chance I get I’ll kill the bastard myself for bein’ such a coward.” He smelled like cigars again. Not just his clothes, but his breath and his skin were heavy with it. He’s probably been chain smoking. The bags under his eyes were telling you Jesse’s been stressed out beyond belief and trying not to show it.

“Hey-” You stopped him before getting in line for food. “Listen Jesse, I’m really sorry about what I said after you got back from Rome. What you said to me wasn’t okay either, but I had no right to say no one loved you.”

He tried to smile to play it off but immediately dropped it and hit your arm with a light tap from a fist.

“We were in pretty bad moods that day, musta both woke up on the wrong side of the bed, huh?” His attempt at playful banter went right over you as you stared into his downcast eyes. “I shouldn’t of said what I did either. I’m sorry too.” He brought you into a hug and held your face close to his chest. “And uh, I was real worried about you when you disappeared over the weekend, you hear me? Obviously it’s not my business what you do on your own personal time, but I think I’ll actually go crazy if you go missin’ again.”

You couldn’t form words, instead you nodded against him and squeezed him closer to you.

“Um, are you two in line?” Came the annoyed voice of an Overwatch strike team member who was clearly already grumpy from being awake so early in the morning. You rolled your eyes and let go of Jesse, gesturing to the agent to walk by and get in line for food.

As you joined behind them, you told Jesse all about the hotel, and the piano, and Morrison’s confession of no longer wanting to hide you. You watched the surprise and careful acceptance of sharing how good of a weekend you had with the Strike Commander. As you forked your breakfast into your mouth you thought about telling him of Morrison’s request after his retirement, but you knew Jesse would have said something about moving to quickly, so you held that in to keep to yourself, filing it off to mention for another time.   

* * *

 

It was almost too easy to get back into routine. Morning training with Blackwatch. Breakfast with Jesse, sometimes Gabe would tag along and not say much as you and Jesse discussed stupid gossip you’d heard around base. You’d help Captain Amari in the shooting range, watching the boot campers and the cadets practice while also sometimes sneaking in your own time to make sure you were keeping up on what Morrison taught you.

Lunch was split between eating alone in the courtyard of the barracks and in offices with the Blackwatch commander and captains or the Overwatch lieutenants who wanted your input on upcoming missions that potentially involved sending in hackers. In the afternoons usually you continued with Amari, but Gabe would send you vague messages about needing to start 'special training' soon otherwise he'd fear it'd be too late.

You were too nervous to tell him you were waiting on specialized armor, too afraid to tell him you didn’t want to be alone with him without protecting yourself.  

When it was time to sleep you initially went to the commanders floor, but Morrison’s room felt too big, too empty to be in after the first few nights. It was nice to have some space to breathe, room to move, but by the end of the first week you were knocking on Jesse’s door and sleeping next to him just to not feel so alone.

By the second week, Jesse would complain about you spooning him and just wanted to stretch out in his own bed again and forced you out. You stood outside your own door, on the captains floor, just staring at the keypad in the hall for longer than you should have before you finally built up the courage to punch the code in.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but your room was exactly how you left it. Bed unmade, drawers open from searching for the Blackwatch hat weeks ago. Your heart beat hard against your skin when you thought about the last night you actually slept here, about why you hadn’t been back in your own bed in so long. Your fingers rested on your chest and you felt your pulse pick up, which normally would be a perfectly normal response, but now you worried whatever Moira gave you was finally wearing off and you’d be trapped in an overheating body again. You needed to check in with her soon, you needed to get your armor for your neck soon. You needed to actually start what you'd said you'd help Gabe with soon.    

At night, just before you went to sleep is when Morrison would call. You’d twist and turn now laying in your own bed and staring at your own window and sometimes the conversations were quick, just check ins, or sometimes the calls were late into the night, drawn long until you knew he’d only be in trouble for missing work if he stayed with you any longer.

You’d get too warm and kick off your blankets and forget what you’d be talking about, he would laugh and tell you he loved you and you’d tell him you missed him.

He’d listen to you catch your breath as he whispered all the things he wished he was doing to you or you’d try to get him all worked up before he had to go to morning meetings.

After a short message just with the word "Ready" to your work email, you picked up your armor from Lindholm, who went over all the details of the neck piece with you. Flexible, durable, thin enough to be hidden by the high rising collar of the uniform shirt, it could withstand extreme pressure.

“Enough to keep your neck safe from the deepest depths of the ocean, if you wanted.” He said as he admired his own handiwork.

It could even prevent small bullets from penetrating the armor. You thanked him, emotional, knowing this was a necessary but sobering requirement for the training you were about to partake in. Armor in place, checking the comfort, you took the opportunity to also visit Moira again that same day.

 

“I was beginning to think you’d never come back.” She was busy at her lab computer, typing away, quickly even with her long fingernails.

“It’s happening still.” You could feel the sweat against your uniform shirt at your pits and you leaned heavily onto some large piece of equipment she kept near the chair in the corner of her lab. “Please tell me you’ve found the problem?”

“Well the good news is I have.” No. That should be it. It should _just_ be good news.

“And what, Moira-” You wanted to shake her. “Is the bad news?”

“I believe the cure may have some other… unintended side effects. We will not know what they are until you’ve been injected however.”

“Moira.” You dropped your voice low. She stood, face stoic to watch you roll your sleeve up. “I need you to tell me. Right now. Why do you think I’ll have unintended side effects?”

She held her breath as she readied a needle, she faced away from you as she attached it to a vial in her fist and you tried to wiggle into a comfortable position on the seat. When she turned, you saw the tube in her hand was a dark purple, so dark it was almost black.

“Moira?” You asked a little more hesitant this time.

“The only tests with successful results for reducing a permanent fever were ones that involved the introduction of another gene.” Okay? That’s what she was, a geneticist. “None of the test subjects have shown any physical or mental changes other than reduced fevers, here-” She handed you her own notebook, turned to a page with perfectly hand written observations and beneath that a screen with all of the scientific data logged meticulously, her attempt to prove the sincere effort she’s put into this.  

“I want you to be informed before I inject you. Please take your time reading over the results, I am willing to wait.”

You did stay there and read over all the failed experiments and the results. Based on her own notes it appeared she believed your fever was due to the mix of chemicals from the couple nights you were in her room. Whatever it was in the vials she used to block all emotion and feeling from your mind and body, she had scientific data showing it permanently altered the chemistry of your own body and was making you overheat. She had notes in the margins about improving the original formulas to do the opposite, to keep the body permanently cooled, but had apparently scratched them out, you guessed, after Gabe destroyed the samples.

You sat reading her notes for so long she went back to her own work and allowed you all the time you needed to read over everything in there, even though you didn’t understand half of the scientific language.

“Okay. Let’s get this over with.” You finally said, stomach feeling a little more settled now. She numbed your skin above a vein at your wrist and you watched her as she slowly pushed the plunger on the vial.

“You may not see any immediate changes. If the overheating gets worse, or you see any other side effects please come see me immediately.” She let you rest there for a moment, your fingers resting above the vein. “Once you’re feeling up to it, in a couple weeks I believe I will be ready for another test to help our dear friend Gabriel. I would not need to inject anything into you, only a new blood sample at that time, are you still willing to work with me on that?”

You chewed your inner lip, still somewhat hesitant to say yes, but you nodded your head anyways.

“Just let me know when you need me.” You half mumbled, pushing yourself from the chair and heading out the lab door.         

* * *

 

When special training with Gabe started, you felt a hollowness eating away at your core. You waited until your fever was gone. Until you knew how to move with the new armor. Until Jesse and Genji were on a recon mission in the states at a known Talon weapons warehouse. You waited until you no longer had an excuse.

At your room you were on the phone with Morrison after he missed a couples days of calls because he was traveling to a new Watchpoint, he was telling you about the amazing view from his temporary room on the base. You told him all about Amari choosing you to help her put together another combat mission. His voice was tired, but so happy to hear yours and you sat in your bed curled up like a schoolgirl on the phone with her crush as he talked your ear off for over an hour.    

Through the phone Morrison heard the knocking at your door.

“Who’s coming to see you at 11 o’clock on a Thursday?” He half laughed, but you could tell he genuinely wanted to know. You knew just by the knock it was Gabe, but there was no way you could logically explain what he was doing there.

“Probably just Jesse coming here to complain about the haircut Gabe gave him some more.” You lied and heard his disappointed sigh on the other end. “I’m all yours tomorrow night, I promise.”

You heard him chuckle on the other end.

“You better be, I want to hear that cute little noise you make when you-”

More knocking, Gabe was impatient.

“Geez, okay I’ll let you talk to him. Have a goodnight okay? Don’t stay up too late.”

“I love you, Jack.” You purred into the phone as you slowly opened your door.

“I love you too.”

With that, the call was over. You stood, dressed in your combat uniform and your armor at your neck underneath. Gabe was waiting with his hands on his hips in the hall, face annoyed as soon as his eyes fell to yours.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” He looked like he was ready to run at a moments notice. You patted down the knives Genji gave you, tucked away in special holsters at your hip. You threw your phone to your mattress, not wanting Athena to know you were going to the sparring room so late at night. You answered with a hard nod, stomach clenching with nerves, desperately hoping this would help him.

It was a quiet walk across the base grounds and through buildings sitting in darkness of night. Neither of you quite knew what to say. This was the first time you’d been alone with him since you had your talk, since he agreed to let you help him. He’d manage to avoid your gaze during planning meetings, to skip out on meals where it would be just the two of you at commissary. You hadn’t had any dreams that required late night visits to him, but you were sure even if they started again, he may not be the first person you’d go to anymore.

In the sparring room the lights were dimmed, hoping not to bring attention to people using the facility so late at night. He folded his green sweatshirt and placed it carefully on a bench before nervously pacing across the mats seemingly counting off a list on his fingers.

“Okay.” He finally started as you finished a round of stretching. “We need to start off with some basics on taking _me_ down.”

“I’m ready, let’s hear them.” You let out a deep breath, not sure if you were actually ready.

“First. Always keep your arms up in an attack position, never let your guard down.” As you stepped onto the mats opposite of him you lifted your fists keeping them in front of you. “Second. Don’t block my shots. Dodge them.” He brought his arm in front of you, slowly bringing a fist towards you as you turned your body out of the way. “Third. Attack from the back when possible.” You circled him, carefully watching as his eyes followed you over his shoulder. “Go for my knees, by taking me to floor you’ll gain the advantage.” That lesson you already learned, but didn’t quite follow through with in the right way unfortunately.

He moved quick, hooking an arm at your waist and sending you to the mats with a hard gasp as the wind was knocked out of you on the landing.

“What was the first one?” His voice was deep as he stood shrouded in shadow from the dim lighting, you were unable to see the look on his face.

“Never let my guard down.” You already failed, dropping your head to the mat. This was going to be hard. He wasn’t just treating you like an agent in training for combat, he was treating you like a soldier readying for war.

The bottom of one of his combat boots pressed lightly onto your stomach as he made it clear he could step on you right now and that could be your end. You carefully wrapped both your hands around his ankle and sucked in a shaky breath. 

“Last one. Fight dirty, if you have to. If I lose control, if you no longer recognize me, you fight me with everything you have. Gouge my eyes, knee me between the legs, stab me if you have to, nothing is off limits if I’m out of my mind.” The foot left you and hand lowered instead, helping you from the floor. “I think you know by now that I have a soft spot for you.” He held your hand just a little too long after you were standing. “You can stop me if it gets bad again, I know you can. Just do whatever it takes. I _don’t_ want to hurt you. I am terrified of hurting you again.”

Your hand dropped to your side before lifting to attack position.

“Good.” He said, noticing your stance. “We’re going to practice take downs over and over until I know you can do it, until I can’t anticipate how you’ll take me down.”

“Let’s do it.”           

* * *

 

Weeks of training in secret, of daily calls with Morrison, of watching Blackwatch be sent on more and more missions, went by before you realized it and suddenly it had been months since Morrison left.

While he was away you flourished with Captain Amari, co-leading a small strike team on a combat mission in Russia to rescue hostages from omnic extremists. You carefully planned out and assigned the roles on a diplomatic mission to cadets who were protecting a payload of stolen artifacts from centuries ago finally being returned to their home country.

Gabe kept you on your toes, sometimes waking you up in the middle of the night to train, other times pulling you off in the height of the day to test how sharp your skills were. You took to it fast. Faster than you thought you would. Each time it was getting easier to surprise him, to think one step ahead, but it scared you to think that one day you may freeze and forget all the training if the time ever comes that you actually did have to use it.

Your practice with Gabe happened about once a week, except for the times he was running solo ops that would have normally been run by Blackwatch agents. It hurt your heart a little that Blackwatch had no new recruits since the Rome incident, you understood why- no one wants to join a team that’s openly targeted by Talon, but still it killed you to see Blackwatch working the agents they had into the ground because there weren't enough people to share the load.

You ran a few missions for them, ones that you could. Mostly solo ones where Gabe would direct you in a ear piece and you’d have to hide your scars as you gathered intel on suspicious locations, but they needed more people, desperately.

 

Jesse and Genji arrived back on base after a week long mission to Canada, exhausted and covered in dirt, but Jesse invited you to a movie night which you immediately agreed to, excited to see your boys again.     

When you got the Blackwatch commons you could already tell there was something going on.

Everyone looked upset, no one was eating the food they'd brought from commissary. You slowly closed the door behind you, squaring your stance nervously preparing for what looked like was about to be physical altercation between Jesse and Genji.

“What's going on in here?” You asked hesitantly.

“Talk some fuckin’ sense in him, would you?” Jesse said with hard gesture to Genji.

“It's already done-” Gabe started.

“I don't wish to fight about this anymore-” Genji balled his fists.

“Fuckin’ traitor. Abdandonin’ us-”  

“He made his decision-” Gabe's face was stern, beanie lowered against his eyebrows. 

“I will still be on base-”

“Hey!” You shouted over them. “Will one of you tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Genji's transferrin’ to Overwatch. To the special forces.” Jesse said with a disgusted look on his face and crossing his arms. “Effective _tomorrow_ , and he didn't even consider talkin’ to us.”  

You stared at Genji. Part of you knew this was coming, you saw the way he looked at you, the way his expression hid all his doubts about your little family behind a face plate. He didn’t trust you. He didn’t trust Moira. He couldn’t trust Gabe. He needed a family that supported him, one that didn’t keep secrets locked away behind double entendres and guarded hearts. From all the pain and suffering his life, Genji was the one who deserved a happy ending.

Slowly, you pulled him into a hug.

“We’ll miss you.” You said with your arms around what would normally be his rib cage. He circled you at your shoulders, pressing his face to the top of your head. “I’m sad to see it come to this, but you know we will always be here for you.”

He leaned back from you, ignoring the other two men in the room and looking you deep in the eyes.

“Shikata ga nai. Stay safe. If you ever need me, I will be here in a heartbeat.” He placed his thumbs on your temples as he leaned forward with a small kiss to the middle of your forehead and it felt like your heart fell to the floor and shattered into billions of pieces. You’d see him again, around base and possibly on missions together now that he was with the strike teams, but things would be different. They’ve already felt different for a while.

Jesse looked hurt, like you betrayed him by not even trying to stop Genji from leaving. You reached out a hand to him, which he hesitantly took as you pulled him into the hug too. He begrudgingly wrapped his arms around both of you as you silently gestured to Gabe to join in. Genji shifted to place a majority of his body between you and Gabe, but there was an actual honest to god group hug and a moment of contemplative silence where each member pondered what the future would hold all for entirely different reasons.   

No one really felt like continuing the movie night. Instead you all parted to head to your own rooms. You hugged Genji again, extra hard.

“I know I’ll see you again, and even probably work with you still but just don’t be a stranger, okay?”

He nodded back at you, expression a mix of relief and fear of the unknown.

 

It took what felt like a lifetime to get to sleep that night. Which is why you woke up extra annoyed when you opened your eyes to an alert early in the morning before your alarm went off. Groggily you tapped your screen and illuminated the dark room in soft light as you looked through a mission report. You rolled in the sheets as you half read each item.

Hacking required under cover from potential enemy fire, got it.

Omnic forces in Spain organizing potentially with Talon operatives, got it.

Mission lead, Jack Morrison. Got it- Wait.

You stared at the screen for a minute, used to seeing Gabriel Reyes or Ana Amari in that slot. You sat up so fast your head went light fumbling with your phone as you called Morrison.

“I'm assuming you just read the mission report?” He answered with a laugh, knowing you'd never normally wake up that early in the morning.

“Am I really going on a combat mission with you?”

“You absolutely are. We need you out here with us, I wanted my best working on this one.”

“I am so, so excited to see you Jack.” You practically melted into your bed. “Six months has been way to long.”

“I know, I've hated being away for this long too.” He laughed and you heard him swallow. “We’ll get that mission done first but after that I’m going to kiss every single inch of you to make up for lost time. Hopefully everything stays on track, I left a couple days after open so we can spend some time together.”

You sighed, turning a happy noise into a yawn as you rubbed your palm against your face.

“Go back to bed, sleeping beauty.”

“Will you kiss me to wake me up?” You chuckled, eyes closing and rolling onto your side back to a comfortable sleeping position.

“I’ll be able to soon. I love you,” He sighed your name.

“I love you too Jack, goodnight.”     

* * *

 

You left on a dropship with two other strike team members. You recognized one as a combat medic who normally worked as a head nurse in the medical wing, he looked so different all dressed up in his armor that you almost didn’t recognize him. Then there was a captain who lived on the same floor as you, a specialist in projectile combat, pulse bombs mostly, you think- you’d manage to avoid her and the training sessions she ran on base citing your hesitancy to be around explosives.

The trip itself didn’t take too long, hours flew by as you laid in the booth attempting to take a nap while the other two played some sort of projected game from the table. As soon as you landed all of you were whisked away by a wiry tall man dressed in a cadet uniform who took too much pride in referring to himself as your ‘guide to Gibraltar’.   

With your bags over your shoulders and eyes wandering a new base, he showed you around to the weapons cache, the medical wing, and the science labs.  

“I'd like you to meet Winston-”

The guide opened the door and sat there was an honest to god gorilla with a lab coat and glasses behind the screens of a desk and your jaw almost hit the floor.   

There was an unsure chorus of greetings and strange looks shared between everyone from HQ.

“Hello there.” The gorilla responded in perfect English with a smile and you just about blew backwards out the door thinking you’d somehow accidentally entered a parallel dimension where animals could speak. “I look forward to working with you all, I operate mainly from this base but will likely be joining you at headquarters soon to conduct some experiments on-”  

“Winston, I’ve got to keep them moving through the tour otherwise we’re going to be late meeting with the British UN reps about grants for Lena.” The guide rolled his neck as he gestured to the hall trying to kindly tell him you were all, apparently, in a rush.

“Right.” The gorilla responded with a laugh. “Good luck with your mission, agents!”

As the door shut behind you all your guide talked over his shoulder.

"Sorry to cut that short, when he gets talking about his work he will, literally, never shut up." 

Quietly the three of you from HQ shared frenzied whispers asking if you all really just saw what you thought you did.

As you followed the guide through the halls and into sections of the base that were built into the mountainside, you passed by a chamber with a door that looked secured unlike anything you’d seen before. Curiosity got the better of you, the technology on it was boggling and the more you looked it, the more unsure you were how or if you could hack it to find out the secrets it held. The group noticed you stopped and the guide looked back, calling out your last name.

“What is this?” You asked back, you eyes studying scrolling text displaying dates across a screen on a window. The other strike team members paused too, curious faces looking into the window of the door and seeing flashes of blue.

“Not a what, a who.” The guide patted the door, fingers touching the window. “It might be hard to believe, but she was a fighter pilot who was in a pretty horrible accident and is now stuck bouncing through time. Or, at least that's our best guess at what's happening to her. Winston created this chamber to keep her physical body contained until he can figure out a better way to help her.”

Actually, it’s not really that hard to believe at this point. After all, you just met a talking gorilla and one of your best friends could turn into smoke so, really, anything was possible now.

But you were _very suddenly_ interested in that research he was going to talk about. Maybe once this mission was completed you could convince Morrison to let you stay just a little bit longer, to see this technology that both confused and mesmerized you.

As the guide tried to herd your group towards the temporary bunks you lingered just for a moment. Inside the window you saw the flash of a figure of girl.

Your mind registered it the same way you saw Leskow’s immediately before the mine exploded in front of her, sending you into a blind moment of panic at the trigger in your brain.

You fell backwards onto the floor catching your breath, heart pounding at the sudden memory. The combat medic immediately rushed in action, he helped you from the floor, asking if you were okay, if you needed to sit down and that you looked like you were going to be sick. You tried to shrug it off, tried to push the imagery to the very corners of your mind as you held your hand over your chest feeling your rapid pulse and pretended like you weren’t reliving horrors you’d thought you'd pushed past.

After being shown to the bunks and choosing your temporary bed you stayed behind in the room while the other two gathered in a group to head to the commissary on base for dinner. You waved off their kind invite to join them, instead staying sat on your mattress wiping off sweat from your forehead and taking long breaths, controlling your reaction.

The noise from the hall was bothering you. It must have been how the room was set up, or maybe just the area, but it felt like you could hear the muffled conversations and footsteps of your teammates as they left down the hall for far longer than would have normally been able to.

You pulled your phone from your pants pocket, sending a message to Morrison to let him know you were here. It only took another minute for your phone to ding back with a message from him saying he was going to get in late in the morning. Your body slumped in disappointment reading his ship was delayed before they could fly overseas. You weren’t going to see him until tomorrows mission, no chance to sneak away with him before getting down to business, and you groaned as you crashed against the mattress beneath you.            

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Another pretty big time jump!  
> Can you feel the inevitable coming?  
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	23. Gibraltar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, this week we got new lore that canonically confirmed Jack Morrison's sexuality as gay.  
> While the community celebrates and rejoices in more (desperately needed) representation, I know those who have read/want to continue reading JFM and other reader/S76 fan fiction are feeling guilty and torn about their emotions regarding this. The general consensus among writers and readers (that I've seen so far) is that fan fiction is a safe space to continue to explore our own realities and fantasies with fictional characters and that while some may stop because it makes them uncomfortable (which is 100% understandable), you are still allowed to indulge in the fantasy so long as it doesn't become problematic. 
> 
> I am hoping to be clear about JFM going forward. This was written before the confirmation and will continue forward as planned as a female reader/s76 explicit fan fiction. Morrison's sexuality will be mentioned in this chapter, as well as Vincent from the recent lore- however in this story he is not gay. I have left it up for open interpretation of bi/pan/whatever makes you comfortable, but he will mention being in a male/male relationship. 
> 
> As always, if you have any questions/concerns going forward please reach out to me (tumblr is the best/fastest way to contact me), and I am more than happy to answer anything or give any additional warnings. 
> 
> For those sticking along with me through this ride, I sincerely appreciate it and really want to thank you for all the kind words of encouragement and support I've received to continue the series. You guys are incredible. For anyone that needs to bow out now and step back from reading this type of fan fiction, I understand, and want to thank you for supporting me along the way. 
> 
> Alight, love you guys.  
> Enjoy. <3

Oh, _wow_.

He looked just like the posters again, maybe with a few more grays on his head than years ago, but just as handsome and clean cut as ever.

Morrison stood in front of the strike team- you, the combat medic, the explosives expert, and two heavily armored agents from the watchpoint at Gibraltar, both almost as tall as Morrison. With head cocked back, smirk plastered across his face, and his large pulse rifle leaned casually over his shoulder, you were a blushing unfocused mess as he gave a rallying speech about your mission, wanting nothing more than to jump in his arms and hug him instead of running into combat. Months and months you'd waited to see him again and it was almost physically painful to act like an agent while you prepared to get into the field. 

Your heart fluttered with nerves, a bittersweet taste lingered in your mouth as you thought about the first combat mission with him.

Liddell, Arntz, Leskow, Noremberg.

Your first team's names pounded against your chest with every heartbeat and your stomach churned in a sense of uneasiness that you tried to push deeper and deeper until all that was left was a guilty love for the commanding officer that ruined, and ended, their lives. You didn’t want to learn your new teammates names, not with the lingering fear in you that if you did history would repeat itself. Combat Medic. Explosives Expert. Morrison. You looked to the two agents from Gibraltar who were whispering and staring at you through squinting eyes during Morrison's whole speech. Gibraltar Tall and Gibraltar Taller, you named them in your mind.  

You tried to focus on Morrison's body, and his face, and the way his blue jacket swung in the wind behind him. God, he looked incredible like this. There was a time you would have rolled your eyes and talked through his speech, but now you were hyper focused on the way his lips moved, on the sneaking glances your way and how you had to catch your breath each time your eyes caught his.  

“Alright team, follow my lead.” He readied at the front line and offered you a wink before turning away, he's known how long you've waited to see him like this, how you've _wanted_ to see him like this. He brought that massive gun of his in front of his body as he ran and you realized it must have been specially made to suit him, it was larger than everyone else's, _much_ larger, half or more the size of your body you guessed. No wonder he could pick you up so easily.   

* * *

 

Working on his team was everything you’d ever hoped for. Having him down in the field with you instead of over an earpiece made the whole mission operate smoother than any mission you’d been on before. Even through small gunfire battles against protective bots and sweat running down your face as you gained access for the team into secured areas, you had to hold back a smile the whole way, excitement of seeing the super soldier in action sent fireworks through your nerves that made your hands shake and your heart flutter.

You circled an omnic hideout on the outskirts of the city, the team moved in quickly, stopping and detaining human agents who were traveling from the small base your team infiltrated to a larger one a couple miles away that your team was nowhere near prepared to tackle. Overwatch got what they came for, with little fuss from the agents captured. Even when surrounded, the agents attempted to keep the true nature of the onmic forces working them a secret, but you found out everyone ends up blabbing after Morrison talked it out of them. How he was so charismatic with enemies baffled you. It must be that signature smirk of his, or the threat of a lifetime in solitary confinement. You stood with the Explosives Expert at the door, watching for any signs of reinforcements to appear, fighting off small droves of security bots.

You kept waiting for Morrison to give the okay to move onto the larger compound, where the mission report stated Talon attack plans were intentionally being held. Instead, you were met with a forward thinking leader whose only mission was to capture and get out of the situation and a demeanor of the Gibraltar agents that rubbed you exactly the wrong way. They seemed casual about the whole mission, openly making short snide comments about you in front of everyone but Morrison. Judgmental stares as you walked the captured agents back to the ship. But you kept your eyes forward, focused, ignored the chatter between every one else and forced yourself to think ahead, to think about having Morrison all to yourself and that all of this waiting will have been worth it.  

After the mission, as you stood at the drop ship now hours after you initially touched down and covered in dust, you realized that although Overwatch had two agents apprehended and the information and technology of organizing omnic forces, Morrison didn’t let your team to get close enough to the main building to get Talon plans like the mission report stated. You were trying to remember the exact words on the document you read at close to three in the morning, something about a strong suspicion of access the power panels of the main base, and access to their network to view unprotected files on potential Talon attacks.  

You almost walked into the ship without mentioning it, but the thought of leaving something like Talon attack plans behind if you knew you had a chance to get them didn't sit right in your stomach. You hesitated to enter the drop ship and turned back towards Morrison with a sinking feeling dropping from your throat almost to the floor.

You needed to go back. This was possibly the only chance Blackwatch would have to get those plans, Gabe just doesn't have the workforce for it right now. There was no way you could leave this opportunity behind.       

“Head out agents, great job out there.” He nodded toward the ship giving you a strange look, a look that said 'what the hell do you think you're doing?'.

“With all due respect Morrison,theinformation team believes the omnic base is holding Talon attack plans. Plans that we didn’t even  _try_ to get. I know we’re not part of Blackwatch, but I can't let this opportunity slip by if we can get access to them.” You said stepping off the ramp and back towards him. His head bounced back with nostrils flaring. 

“We are not putting Overwatch agents lives at risk for a possibility of something related to Talon, I’m sure Commander Reyes is already aware and will get an agent out here when it’s possible.” His tone was curt. He wanted you to get on the drop ship, now. 

“You know Blackwatch's short on people! If we don’t take this opportunity now we could be missing the chance to stop another attack, to stop another building from dropping on _my family_.” You snarled at him, genuinely angry he would even think about letting you leave this job to someone else. You moved closer to him, gesturing between his chest and yours. “We can get in, just the two of us. I just need you to cover any fire.”

“You have my answer. Move out, agent.” 

It was a stare off. You sucked in a breath and looked into icy blue eyes that struck a chord in you the same way they did when you'd want to jump across meeting room tables and punch him in the throat. Behind you, the other strike team members froze in uncomfortable fear wondering if you were about to assault the commander with the fists you curled at your sides.  

“I've made the right call before and you didn't listen to me, look how that turned out.” You said coldly.  

He failed to hide his pissed off expression, and he took a big breath with the ferocity of someone who was about to get into a screaming match. The other agents shared quick glances and gripped their weapons tight as you stood tall, holding your ground against the commander, body practically vibrating from anger.

The way he looked at you, looming above you with his shoulders dropped back, he was giving you the look he used to when you would fight.

Right now he wasn't your lover. Right now he was your commander. He was your stern faced Strike Commander who hated you undercutting his decision and using his past mistakes against him.

“Get back to the drop ship and to our secondary location. Tell the pilot to come back for us as soon as you’re all safe.” He nodded tight towards everyone else with a clenching jaw. As the others quickly turned he leaned down right in front of your face and dropped his voice out of earshot of the others. “If those plans aren’t here and you’re putting the two of us in danger for no reason, I’m going to make you clean the office bathrooms with your own fucking toothbrush, even if you're still bleeding from bullet wounds. You’ll be eating nothing but MRE’s for a week. I'll take you off combat missions for the rest of the year. Do you understand me?”

“Understood.” You responded holding your breath and feeling strained muscles in your neck twitching. You didn’t think before you said it, didn't think your words would cut him that deep, but if anyone else had talked back to him the way you did, his response wouldn’t have surprised you. The others took off in the drop ship glued to the windows watching as you faced each other and talked through the next steps. Morrison was reading something on his tactical glass, furrowing his eyebrows as his pupils followed a trail.

“We’ll need to approach from the side. It looks like most of the omnic cover is towards the front of the building and there’s no access in the back.” He still sounded completely annoyed about going along with your stupid idea. “With any luck, there should be a power panel on the wall where you can access what you need.” He turned to you, eyes checking his gun then meeting your gaze, brows still heavy with anger. “It’s not a question of if we’ll get shot it, it’s when. We’re taking a big risk going behind enemy lines, are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“As long as I have you, I’m ready.” You brought your own rifle in front of you, lowering the visor on your combat helmet and moving to run towards the building.

You led the way, sprinting off with his voice guiding your stops and turns around corners through the earpiece. Your pulse was racing in your veins, beating against your temples and eyes focusing ahead of you, listening to his instructions with absolute precision. He was able to guide you to the side of the building, to laser open a section of the wall and reveal exactly what the mission report stated there would be.

You breathed a sigh of relief that at least the power panel was here. You next hope was that there was actually useful information. Through shaky breaths from your nose you tried to steady your heartbeat and focus on the panel in front of you. As you strapped your gun to your back, out of the way so you could use both hands with your hacking screen, Morrison stood close at your side with his jacket ends gently fluttering across the backs of your legs. You’d need to connect into their system somewhere and, of course, nothing was labeled so you spent a few tense minutes fumbling around before finally hooking into the right place.

“Okay Morrison, I’m connected. It’s going to be just a little longer while I transfer what I can to our systems.” He grunted in response, facing away from you, eyes scanning for enemies. You manually searched through data on a shared network hoping that you’d find something, anything, relating to Talon. You ran a system to decode know aliases, known code words for the terrorist organization and, thankfully, it didn't take too long to get hits on your system and you started transferring them immediately.

You knew you didn't have a lot of time. As soon as the panel was removed you were sure you tripped some sort of security alert and that either omnics or human agents would be on their way to take out any threats.

Almost. Your program was almost there when the distance you could hear droves of robotic noises, noises that were coming at you quickly from across a dirt field looking to the base.  

“Hurry it up, we've got company.” His tone was short, voice gruff and turning to the side for just a moment.

“I'm going as fast as I can!” You hissed back.

Almost done. You were so close to having everything, your program was just scrubbing through a few more files.

Behind you Morrison was aiming his rifle at a group of slicer bots running your way. He was rattling off gunfire against the fairly easy to fend of enemies and your program was jumping through the final steps. His gunfire was still loud in your ear, even though the earpieces that were supposed to muffle it.  

You shook your leg in anticipation trying not to focus on the fight behind your back, body getting ready to sprint as soon as the program completed, but your ear zeroed in on a sound to your right. As you turned your head to face it your hand searched for Morrison’s handgun strapped to his leg. Your mind was racing too fast for you to understand, too fast to make the conscious decision that circling your own rifle from your back would have taken too long, it seemed like your hand moved to his pistol on its own. Around the corner of the building appeared a trooper omnic and Morrison was too busy with those in front of him to react.

Your body reacted before your mind could. 

You don’t know where the speed came from, but your hand expertly unstrapped the handgun at his leg, aimed, and shot the omnic’s head clean off, blowing the body backwards and fizzling out the lighting. You felt a surge of energy through your body like you never had before, an energy of being extremely focused, of being able to anticipate anything. Two more trooper omnis came running towards you, gracefully hopping over their fallen comrade, and you aimed and shot without hesitation with the same accuracy, taking both down as well. You were gasping to yourself as you stared past his pistol in your steady hand then snapped back to your hacking screen in the other. 

Behind you, Morrison’s pulse bomb exploded yards away against the slicer bots and he turned to you with an open mouth to see you with his pistol in one hand, your hacking screen in the other, a big smile spread across your face, and three omnic troopers with clean shots through them to his side.

"Did you-?" His eyes flickered between you and the omnics. 

“Let’s get out of here commander.”

You could see his pupils widen and a sparkle of something just behind them. He cocked his hip towards you, nodding down towards his leg.

“You have your own gun agent, I suggest using that one.” He was smirking and trying desperately not to let it grow to a grin. Your finger flipped his safety back on and you brought your own rifle in front of you, running at his side through the field and towards the drop ship landing on the other end.

You could hear the bots behind you, more being sent out to stop you with whatever you got on your files. You were breathing hard. Mentally you noted the shots you missed. Two. This kind of accuracy was unheard of. Sure, Morrison taught you shot and medium ranges and you were halfway decent, but to be almost accurate at medium range _now_? No, you couldn’t question it here. You’ll question it when you’re safe and not being actually shot at by unnaturally moving bots that glowed with a dangerous red across their machinery.    

Morrison slowed down just enough to put himself between you and the omnics, and he shot a frenzy of bullets taking most of them down before turning and sprinting towards you.

You were turned to face him when he grabbed you by waist to pick you up, hoisting you in the air so he could get you both out of there faster, his other arm tucking away his gun and sprinted towards the ship that landed across the field. You steadied your elbows on his wide shoulder as you looked through the rifles sights and shot down any omnics still heading full speed your way until the trigger clicked in response, empty. Three shots. Three shots missed in a full clip.  

He threw you into the doors, you landed with a thud against metal floor and he hurried to raise the ramp and slam the massive doors closed. You were both left sweating and swaying with the hard motion of taking off when the ship darted into the air. Morrison walked to the pilot, landing a hand on their shoulder. You couldn’t hear what he was saying over the noise of the ship but you think you saw the words ‘thank you’ forming on his lips as you brought yourself to stand again.

As he hurried past you, he grabbed the back of your armor and forced you to walk with him to the back of the ship to lock up your weapons, armor, and helmet. His face was blushing a deep pink, body moving in fast tense jerking motions. You were wiping sweat and dust from your forehead, body buzzing from the adrenaline of the mission still as you both finished the lockup in silence.

He was mad at you, you thought. Still mad from you talking back and getting him to go in for the plans, but as soon as the electronic beep sounded indicating all weapons were in place and behind the protective wall, Morrison surrounded you, pressing you against a wall, arms on either side of your head, just out of sight from the pilot.

“I don’t know what was going on with your perfect shooting today, but that doesn’t make up for your attitude earlier. Don’t you ever pull that shit again.” He whispered against your ear, hands wandering to the side of your leg and lifting it to hook around him. He was hard already, wanting to take you right now and he grinded himself against your core making you moan suddenly. A wave of pleasure washed over you, your skin prickled with a warmth you'd missed for months. Your hips responded by pressing hard against his, rubbing yourself along his girth through rough combat pants and taking his mouth into a deep kiss.

There was something frantic, messy, about how he was kissing you. Desperate. You tried to get words out, apologizes for what you said and how you acted, but every time you tried to speak he cut you off with a needy mouth and hard grinding between your legs. You could feel him against your thigh, throbbing already and body unable to stop moving trying to get you to moan for him.   

You wiggled your hands at your side, he took the signal to let go temporarily and leaned back to give you room, watching every move you made with burning eyes. Moving quickly, you dropped your pants and panties to your knees, only taking one leg fully out in a hurry to have him inside you. He pressed a hand between your legs first, fingers slipping between your folds and against your twitching entrance.

“Wet already, agent?” He said with a smirk as he pushed two fingers in and scissored, making you shake and your body fall against his.

“Fuck, Jack-” You breathed out. “Seeing you like that out in the field-” His fingers curled in you and you gasped. “It was everything I've ever wanted. God, you were so fucking hot.” You were practically panting over the sound of the ship.  

“You were incredible.” His voice was low and pressed against your jaw line. His fingers left you, quickly replaced by his tip pressing hard. “You used my gun-” He snapped into you with a low moan and threw his head back. Every inch of him pushed into you and you twitched around him with desperate need. “If you ever do that again you’re going to be in _so much trouble_ , but god damn, if that wasn’t one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen you do-” His breath was hot and heavy on your ear. He grabbed both of you legs and wrapped them at his waist, pants hanging off one and body shaking from adrenaline, his strong arms kept you in place as you sank onto him. 

Your body had almost forgotten how big he was. You desperately arched your back as he stretched you when he pumped in. You whined and tried to catch your breath, but he didn't cut you a break, he was pressed against every nerve on your walls, stretching you out and filling you completely, perfectly.

He stayed still for a moment, smirking and silently relishing in the moment of being buried deep inside you, of feeling you around him again. His teeth bit lightly at the skin on your jaw wanting desperately to leave a hickey on your neck, but knowing he didn't have the time to get you all the way out of your clothes. 

It didn’t take long for him to roll into you with the need of a man who’d been touch starved for months. He had you pinned to the wall, driving into you hard and fast knowing the ship would be landing soon at the secondary location, knowing he wouldn’t have to himself for at least another few hours and he needed to look at least somewhat put together when the ship touched down. He pushed up the edge of your shirt, big hands wandering across your scars as he scooted your body higher on the wall until his mouth found your nipple and teeth pulled until you were clenching around him.

“I'm so close Jack-” You cried, moving one of your hands between your legs and circling a finger at your swollen clit. “It's been too long.” Your head dropped forward, mouth open as you watched him leaving a hickey at the top of your chest. You saw a wicked smile spread across his face and he was quick to grab your wrists, pinning them at your sides again, the only thing keeping you up being him driving into you and your back pressed hard against the wall. Your hips shook at the sudden absence of your fingers from your core, but he rocked into you again, and again, and icy blue eyes watched your blushed and panting reaction.

“Your attitude was out of line today.” He said with that stupid devilish smile. He snapped into you again. “I’m going to leave you a needy mess for talking like that to me out there in front of everyone else, and for using a commander's gun. Hopefully then you’ll learn your lesson, agent.”

“Jack, please-” Fuck, you were moving your hips so hard against his, begging for the release of a knot deep in your stomach. You wouldn't be able to focus if he left you like this, not after being on the edge after months of not having him in you.

“That's too bad. Can't even refer to me by my proper title.” He growled at you. His grip at your wrists tightened to keep you in place and his head dropped to your neck to whisper as he drove himself over inside of you. “I'm going to fill you up and watch you spend the rest of the day trying to act like you can't feel it running down the side of your leg.”

He meant it, he was swelling in you, your body was burning up as it tried desperately to follow but just couldn't get over the final hurdle. All you needed was a little push, a kiss to your neck, a touch to your chest, god, you'd take anything he was willing to give to just feel the release you needed.

He moved your wrists above your head, locking onto both with one hand and dropping the other to your jaw, his thumb and pointer kept your face towards him, your gaze locked on his. His fingers held you there for a moment as he kissed you and you moaned into his mouth with pleads not to leave you like this, that you promise you’d listen to him, that he was _your commander_. He smiled when he leaned back, moving the tip of his thumb to your lips. You thought the smile meant he'd be nice, that he'd give you what you want. He always had a thing for you referring to him as his title. 

“Open.” His gruff voice demanded and you did, greedily sucking on his hooked thumb in your mouth, hoping he'd give you want you wanted.

It was no use.

As soon as he felt the sensation of your tongue and your mouth around him he was pulsing in you. You whined at the feeling of his body releasing, deep and warm inside you, making your eyes roll and your head push against the wall behind with a whining groan. In a small act of defiance you bit down against the bent knuckle of this thumb, bearing your teeth and looking to his face with half lidded eyes.

You loved the way he looked when he came, but he was giving you an extra evil smile this time. He watched you, reveling in your reaction to his body joining with yours in a way only he could. His mouth hung open a little, he _always_ a small smile on his lips but this one was extra sweet. 

As you bit down on his thumb he made his final thrusts the hardest, making sure you knew you were filled to the brim with every drop of him.

He stayed in you, breath shuddering as he pushed his hair back into place and removed his thumb from your lips, replacing it with his mouth, kissing you hard and holding the back of your head. You cried out a whine and your legs shook from the denial of release against him and you could feel his lips spreading to another smile. He carefully brought your thighs together when he pulled from you, lowering you gently back to the ground to stand on your own shaky legs. 

“We should be landing in a few minutes. You may want to pull yourself together, agent.” He leaned on the wall opposite from you, watching you bite back your desire to touch yourself and just finish the job. As you buttoned your pants with a sour look on your face you moaned low feeling a wet spot on your panties grow and glared at him. 

The waves of heat and the knot in your stomach that once was building up pleasure now sat heavy in you, painful almost, with unreleased tension and it felt like you were almost cramping inside. With an upset face you fell back and beat a fist onto the metal wall above you, tears building in the corners of your eyes.

“Hey.” Morrison closed in on you again, this time gentler, arms hugging at your waist and hands rubbing your back. “I love you. I’ve missed you, so, so much. You can’t do shit like that though. Yes, you made the right call with the mines a long time ago, but now, I need you to trust that I know what’s best for my team and trust my calls. When we’re out there, I’m Strike Commander first, always. For anyone else the punishment would _actually be_ a punishment, do you understand?”

“I know.” You mumbled and hugged his neck. “I love you too Jack, I’ve missed you more than anything.” Emotions hit you, not just a ruined orgasm, or getting shot at. Just being here with him wrapped up in his arms after six months of focusing on nothing but work was overwhelming. “I love you. I love you.” You continued and squeezed him hard. The ship shifted hard as it landed and you parted from him with a small kiss.  

“We’ll just need to deal with a few United Nations officials, then it’s an hour flight back to the watchpoint. After that I’ll have you all night, and I won’t waste a minute of it.” He kissed your cheek and you rolled against the metal wall as you lazily nodded your head.

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

 

The team was cranky and sweating in warmth as they all sat in a stuffy holding room after giving brief statements to the local police force and waiting while Morrison spoke to UN officials. You tried to stop the blush from creeping to your cheeks each time you shifted and felt wetness down your thigh. Explosives Expert was talking shop with Gibraltar Taller, while Combat Medic took a nap spread out in his chair. You waited there for what felt like a lifetime, stretching out sore muscles and listening to muffled voices down a hall and through an open door about what evidence they found belonged to the local government and what belonged to Overwatch.

Gibraltar Tall leaned over to talk to you with a judgmental grin. 

“So, those scars on your arm, I’m guessing you’re the one from those pictures with the Strike Commander, right?” Jesus fucking Christ. Is that all people thought about when they saw you? She was asking but she already knew. You heard her low whispers all day, guesses about your life with the commander and with Overwatch. 

“The one and only.” You deadpanned at her, obviously annoyed at the question.

“That’s one good looking dude.” She mused at you with a mocking smile, if she was trying to get under your skin it was working. You clicked your tongue in response. “Must be nice to get away with whatever you want because of him.” She pretended to say this casually, leaning back in her chair as if she said it under her breath but everyone heard. The other conversation in the room came to an abrupt stop and the sleeping combat medic leaned forward opening surprised eyes. 

With that, there went any sense of professionalism with her.

“Fuck you.” 

“Excuse me?” She asked shifting in her chair towards you, clearly not expecting you to have anything to say to her comment, or at the very least not _that_.  

“Sorry. Maybe you didn’t hear me after all the gunfire today, I said-” You cupped your hands around your mouth to amplify your voice. “Fuck. You.” The others turned to you with absolute confusion and you dropped your hands together in your lap, staring Gibraltar Tall down with dead eyes. “Don’t make assumptions about my relationship with the Strike Commander, or my time with Overwatch-”

“Are you kidding me? Some of us have actually had to work to get where we are and don't really think it's fair that you're going on strike teams missions just because-"  

"I do not need to explain to  _you_ why I'm here. This mission wasn't Morrison's excuse just to see me like some sort of love sick dog. My skill set was required and that's it. End of story." 

"Everyone’s seen those pictures of you two, I'm just the only one brave enough to say something to your face. The way you talked to him today? You're obviously getting special treatment and you’re clearly only here because you slept your way to the top, everyone knows it-” Her voice was cut short when Combat Medic laid a hard hand on her shoulder.

“You’re talking to a captain, _cadet_. One that held that title a long time before any of that nonsense with the pictures started and long before her and the commander were ever together.” You locked eyes with Combat Medic in a silent thank you and he nodded back at you. Your heart skipped a beat as you looked at him and realized you hadn't just seen him around the medical wing, this was the head nurse during your stay after the explosion. 

You felt like an asshole. People have been in the background keeping you steady and sane and you'd successfully ignored or pushed away everyone, and yet here was someone who could have let you suffer in silence coming to your defense.  

Gibraltar Tall looked like she drained of color hearing your title.

“You might want to start reading the ranks and credentials on those mission reports before you go mouthing off to someone above you.” Explosives Expert whipped out her phone. “In fact, I’m going to start working on a report to your commanding officer right now about your behavior, cadet.” She was smirking as she typed away on her small screen.

Gibraltar Tall sunk in her chair, closing her eyes and covering her face with her hands as Gibraltar Taller tightly held their lips closed wanting to avoid being roped into the embarrassing interaction.

It was a weird feeling thinking you were going to be swinging an uphill battle against someone, but those you barely knew were coming out to bat for you instead. You smiled to yourself, and your team from HQ, and mentally made a note to actually learn their names and to find a better way to thank them when you were all back on the home base. In the meantime, now with the room in an unpleasant silence, you pulled out your hacking screen to start manually looking through some of the data hoping to find anything useful for Gabe.

Most of the files looked like they were password protected, you’d need to be back on base to start working on a program to decode those. The only things not encrypted were emails and messages between agents, seemingly mundane- complaints about the implication of new safety protocols in Talon where they were required to check out their armor and weapons with id badges, gossip about relationships and family problems between agents they referred to only by numbers, even the planning of a surprise baby shower.

As you read through them you were struck with a panging empty feeling in your stomach. The interactions between Talon agents looked so… normal. They looked like they could be the same messages sent between Overwatch agents. You chewed at your nail, having to remind yourself that these people also helped orchestrate the dropping of a building on the team you held close to your heart, on your family.

Morrison’s heavy metal boot steps hurried down the hall towards you and you folded the screen into your pocket before he appeared in a flash of blue at the doorway. 

“Okay, all set. We can head out, thanks for your patience team.” He smiled brightly but dropped the expression on seeing the smug look of the HQ members and the Gibraltar agents visibly uncomfortable and rigid in their chairs. Morrison raised an eyebrow and landed his eyes on yours. “Anything we need to report here agents?”

Everyone’s face snapped to Gibraltar Tall who went red faced and eyes darted around the room at each of you.

“No, sir.” She finally responded and stood to her full height, practically darting out the room past him. The group followed and you lingered behind to walk side by side with Morrison who placed gentle fingers on your lower back. 

“What was all that about?” He tried to tell from the look on your face but you chewed your lip in a smile.

“One of the Gibraltar agents got a little out of line, but we took care of it." He nodded as if deep in thought trying to figure out what the hell that could mean. "I think I have more friends at HQ than I realize?”

“People used to be scared to even be in the same room as you, but you’ve made a clear change. I don't think I've received a complaint about your behavior in... a year now, maybe? You're not lashing out anymore, you smile at people you don't know that well. I'm just happy to hear you have more friends than just the ones in Blackwatch.” He smiled, proud of you. 

“Jack?” You stopped him and he looked to you nervously upon hearing his first name. "I wanted to apologize, not just on a personal level, but professionally as an agent to their Strike Commander, for what I said in the field today. I should have known better than to use what I did against you, especially because I know you've made the right calls since then. I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you and for what I said. I was frustrated and letting my anger get the better of me. Honestly, if you think what I said deserves actual disciplinary action, I ask that you don't let it slide just because we're together." 

He nodded slow and rolled his lips together. 

"If it was anyone else I would have written them up for disobeying direct orders. I agree that it does deserve disciplinary action, real disciplinary, not just dirty talk and spanking while I have you tonight-" He had to shake his head as he distracted himself from his train of thought. The sun above beat down on your skin and his coat radiated the same color as the sky, you stared at the stitching running along the sleeves as he pondered a real punishment. "But I shouldn't be the one to dole that out, I think. Are you comfortable letting Gabe take care of the disciplinary side?" 

Well, if you said 'no' that would be suspicious.

"Of course, you know he'll probably make me run in dark again." 

"I look forward to hearing about it. Thank you for apologizing. You're an amazing resource to have in the field, and I'm hoping we can do more of these together." He laughed and rubbed your arm as he guided you to start walking again. 

The mess between your legs reminded you how Morrison really wanted to punish you and your face flushed with pink as you laced fingers with his and make your way back to the drop ship. He kissed the side of your head before entering to check in with the pilot and you made yourself comfortable away from everyone else on the stairs leading up to the weapon hold. Still exhausted, Combat Medic was sprawled out across the booth that would normally sit multiple people, his arm draped over his eyes as he power napped on the way back to the base. Explosives Expert made her way up to the pilots area, chatting away about new ideas and good places to test. The two Gibraltar agents huddled together silently dreading being dropped back at their base and facing the consequences of trying to bully another agent.  

Morrison joined you at the steps, falling heavy at your side with a big sigh and bags showing under his eyes. His perfectly in place hair was starting to deflate and show the signs of a long day. He tried to leave space between both of you, but you scooted until you were shoulder to shoulder and leaned your head against him. You could feel him tense up but you laid a hand on his knee and played with the bunching fabric.

“It’s okay.” You sighed towards his chest. “No hiding anymore, right?”

“Right.” He breathed out. “Sorry. Just, not used to it, I guess.” He laughed nervously then buried his face on the top of your head and kissed your hair. “It’s really nice to have you back. We have a couple more days on base at Gibraltar, but no missions, so we can relax and just spend some time together before I'm out on the final stretch of visiting the watchpoints.”

“Oh!” You moved your head up to look at him. “Actually, on one of the days I was hoping I could talk to that gorilla- which, side note, I’m genuinely curious why you never mentioned to me that Overwatch has an actual talking gorilla on one of their bases, let alone one who has their own lab- but I wanted to talk to him about that door he made.”

“Winston?” Morrison laughed. “Yeah, I guess I forgot to tell you about him, sorry. He’s great. I’m assuming your talking about the chamber they’re keeping the pilot in?”

“Yup, that one. The technology on it looked _insane_. I have so many questions for him.” Your fingers were gripping into his knee with excitement. Morrison smiled down at you, happy to see you genuinely giddy for something like that.

“Tomorrow, then. But you’re all mine tonight.”

“Absolutely.” You purred as you curled against his chest.

In your pocket your phone buzzed, and you thought about ignoring it to stay wrapped up in Morrison’s arm, but a nagging feeling told you to answer it.

Across the screen read the name ‘Gabriel Reyes’ and a picture Jesse took of you and Gabe during a morning sparring session long ago- you stood tall, hips squared and a bright grin on your face, Gabe held in a headlock at your waist just on the verge of rolling his eyes. You heard Morrison chuckle seeing the picture and you kissed his cheek before standing to talk to Gabe and pace through the weapon hold.

Something didn't feel right. If there was a problem he should be calling Morrison, not you. 

“Hey Ga-”

“Are you on base right now?” He sounded frantic.

“No? I’m almost at the Gibraltar watchpoint, is everything-” You tried to keep a calm in your voice, hushing it below the volume of the drop ship so Morrison wouldn’t hear and get worried.

“Fuck. Fuck!”

“Talk to me!” You hissed into the phone, body facing to a metal corner as you nervously dug your nail into the side paneling.

“I can’t take this shit anymore. I’m fucking exhausted and falling asleep at my desk and having nightmares and I’m always waking up surrounded by this fucking smoke-” You heard the phone shift as he groaned in frustration.  

“Hey, backup. What nightmares?” You tried to be careful with him but you were met with silence. “Gabe?” You pleaded.

“You. They’re always of you and about what I did to you, and about what I _can_ do to you, and I wake up always thinking they were real and that I hurt you again and I feel like I’m going fucking insane.” It sounded like he was pacing across the room. "I can feel it. I can feel my body breaking apart and putting itself back together and I'm scared-" 

 You were met with silence on the other end, then deep slow breaths into the receiver.

_“Gabriel?”_

“I'm scared because it's not hurting as much anymore.” His voice was tight, speaking to you as if he was talking through a headache. "Whatever Moira is pumping into me isn't making it better, but it is making it less painful. That scares the shit out of me." He shakily sighed your name after another pause. "I'm falling apart and it's killing that this burden is on you. You don't have to help me. You should be focusing on your own career, your time with Jack-" 

"You're family. I'm not going to sit by while this happens to you. Right now, I just need you to focus. I need you to breathe, and I need you to pull yourself together for at least a couple days."

"There's something important I need to ask you when you get back." His deep voice sounded distracted, small almost. "Something I think is best that we talk about in person."  Whatever it was, you weren't sure you'd have the anwser for him. Your eyes looked to Jack who glanced from his own phone to you and flashed you a concerned look. You tried to smile and pretend like Gabe wasn't freaking you out beyond belief. 

"Okay. Just make it in one piece until then, okay?" You asked quietly. 

"I'll see you soon." 

Low beeps dropped off against your ear and you started at the ended call screen for just a little too long. 

"Everything okay?" Morrison said twisting his torso towards you to lean back against the steps. 

"All good." Liar, liar. "Think he's just having a rough day. Nothing he can't handle." How long? How long would it be before Morrison finds out about what's happening to Gabe, surely, you couldn't keep this a secret forever. 

You dropped next to Morrison again, this time closing your eyes as you fell against him. Tired minds sought out comfort with each other as you swayed in the flight and slipped into light sleep with an arm wrapped at your shoulders. 

* * *

 The first thing you did when you got to Morrison's temporary room on base was shower the days worth of sweat and dirt off you. You stayed leaned against the steel walls of the shower that was definitely too small for you, let alone for Morrison to fit in and you let the hottest water you could wash over your skin until it was tinting with pink. You stayed there so long leaning your forehead on the wall with half closed eyes and lost in thought of the mess you were going to go back to HQ to that you didn't even hear Morrison open the door to check on you. 

You practically jumped out of your skin when you finally rolled yourself off the wall and wiggled beneath the now barely warm water, opening your eyes to see his large form looming outside the shower door. 

"Jesus, Jack!" You screamed as you brought a hand over your heart feeling the intense beating against your chest. 

"You've been in there for almost thirty minutes, are you sure everything is okay?" He cracked open the door and leaned back to avoid small splashing. 

"Sorry, yeah I'm fine. I think I'm just more tired than I thought." 

"Me too. Let's just get some sleep, yeah?" He leaned his head against the frame and you looked at him with gentle eyes. You wanted him again so badly, wanted to be wrapped up in his body moaning his name and hearing him whisper sweet things against your ear, but _god dammit_ if sleep didn't sound better than anything right now. 

You turned the small shower dial and stepped out to him wrapping a scratchy towel around you to help you dry off. You held it loosely to your body and he ran gentle thumbs along your jaw line before leaning in for slow kisses that made you feel weightless. He turned down his sheets as you dressed into his oversized SEP shirt. Before you clicked off the light at the bedside you looked to him, a tired face of a man who desperately needed a break from the rounds he was making all across the world. You shifted in the bed until you were sitting leaned up against his side as he laid down, his hand wandering across your legs and a weak smile on his lips. You hovered over him, placing small kisses across his cheeks, and his ears, down his neck and over his shoulders, anywhere you could reach. 

"I love you Jack Morrison." You'd say it a million times until you were sure he knew how much you loved him, how much it hurt your heart to be separated for so long. He responded in turn with your full name and he carefully pulled you down to the bed next to him hoping to get you to fall asleep. With a content sigh you finally clicked off the light and snuggled up against him. 

You were almost asleep, body exhausted and mind slowly drifting to black as you spooned the super soldier and nuzzled into his back.

Morrison said your name into the darkness of the room, whispered, but with question and hurt behind it. It immediately struck your nerves with fear, spiking your pulse. 

“Are you okay?” Your arm was around his waist, chest pressed against his back and fingers lingering over his heart beat.

“The last time we were together, you asked me about my past relationships. I-” He stopped himself and you heard his breath hitch. “I wasn't completely honest with you.” His voice was shaking and you could feel his own pulse quicken.

“Jack?” You questioned with a break as you pushed yourself up on your arm, expecting the worst.

“There was someone else, someone I thought I loved.”

“Oh.” You breathed out, unsure how to take that. In the silence you laid on your back, staring to the dark ceiling and your mind racing through all the reasons he wouldn’t have told you before.  

“It was at the beginning of my career with Overwatch. Before I was commander. I let my ambition get the best of me and I couldn't see what I was doing to the relationship. Everything I did, everything I didn’t do, it was all for Overwatch and I always put work first.”

You thought back to the way he treated you on the field, wondering if that’s how he talked to his former love. If so, you could see why that would drive someone away.

“What was her name?” You asked, comforting yourself by running your fingers through your hair. You could feel his chest rising and falling against the mattress with slow shallow breaths for a few moments.

“Vincent.” He finally said.

“ _Oh_.” You said with realization. He was always vague about past lovers, fleeting details that never assigned gender, apart from the one diplomat's daughter, and you hadn't ever pushed to find out more about _who_ they were, only _what_ they were to him.

“Jack, you didn't have to hide that. I'm more hurt that you've been in love before and didn't tell me.” From being so tired before, you suddenly felt wide awake now. In the dark he shifted from one side to his other, bringing arms around your waist and pulling you close to his chest, pressing his face against your cheek.

“It was definitely love, but I'm not so sure that I was _in love_ with him.”

“Why would you think that?” Your voice was soft as your thumb rubbed on his wrist and he squeezed you tightly to his body.

“With you I feel like I could drop everything and run away, that I would let absolutely nothing get between us. When we’re apart I still think about you, I wonder if you’re safe and if you’re happy and it just feels so _easy_ to love you, even when I tried to fight it. With Vincent, he was so nice to me, always, but he was easy to put at the back of my mind while I worked." He buried his face against you, hoping you wouldn't see his shame, even in the dark. "I know I was the asshole in the situation. I did love him, but I wasn’t willing to have a life with him if he didn’t come along with mine. He realized he would always love me more than I would love him, that he was always willing to put in more work into staying together than I ever would.”

“Damn.” You breathed out. He’s apparently done some thinking on this.

“He taught me how to be careful with people and he encouraged me to do everything I wanted to do, but we always wanted different things from life.” Morrison continued as if he needed to explain himself to you, as if you he needed you to know why he was no longer with him, but really, it didn’t matter to you. What he did in the past was his business. 

“Was he another agent?”

“No, he worked financials for a giant tech company. Me being gone all the time drove a wedge between us too, I think. I don't want that to happen to us. I don't want to lose you because I'm not around.” He kissed the side of your face and pressed his forehead to you. You ran your hand along his arm in soft petting motions, silently trying to tell him everything was okay.  

“I appreciate you telling me this Jack, and I hope you know that no matter what type of relationships you’ve had in the past, or the gender of people you’ve slept with, I will always love and support you. Just, be honest with me, that’s all I ask.”

Well, aren’t you certainly one talk about being honest. Why don't you tell him about what Gabe did to you? Or about your secret meetings with Moira, even after bold faced lies to each of your commanders that you'd stay away from her? They'd love to know about the vials of blood with your name on them tucked away in her lab. Or how about the secret sparring sessions you've been holding with the Blackwatch commander? 

With a wave of nauseating guilt, you turned your head to the side hoping to ignore your hypocrisy and kissed where you thought his lips would be, but instead landed on his nose.

“Thank you. I am sorry I haven't told you before.” He sighed and rubbed his fingers along the height of your hips.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you feel like you can talk to me about it.” You leaned down and kissed him slow, careful to not push him anymore on the subject. Today was hard, physically and emotionally taking a huge toll on both you in a way neither of you expected. 

“You mean the absolute world to me. I know I can come off as possessive, or like I'm trying to move too fast, but I don't want to lose you.” His hand squeezed you gently and you smiled at him even though the room was dark.

“I plan on sticking this through with you for a long time, Jack.” You leaned forward, kissing him slow again. “I love you.”

“I love you so much.” He let go of your side, dropping to his back again and breathed out a long sigh of someone who had been holding a secret for far too long.

He laughed out a small chuckle and you heard a shudder in his breath, for a second you thought maybe he was about to cry.

“Winston is going to love you. I hope you’re ready to have your ear talked off tomorrow.” 

“You sure you’re okay with me spending a day with him?” You turned and buried yourself between his chest and arm and his hand lazily lifted your shirt then wandered across your back in small kneading motions. "I could stay here, we could spend the day just to ourselves." 

"I have some loose ends I can tie up tomorrow while you're with him." His speech was changing back to his usual lighter tone. "That actually might work out better, then we can spend the rest of our days here together uninterrupted." You nodded in the darkness against him and kissed the same spot on his chest over and over until he was running a hand through your hair and chuckling against you. "I have my alarms turned off for the morning though, let's at least sleep in for once."

"I like the sound of that." 

With sweet goodnights, he held your head against his chest. You fell asleep to the sound of his steady beating heart and a soothing rise and fall of his breathing. He was always so warm when he slept, but you pushed off your blankets, leaving only the thin bottom sheet to cover you so you wouldn't overheat as you held onto him through the night, and into the glowing greeting of mid morning. 

* * *

This time you were prepared to face a literal talking Gorilla.

You took a steadying breath and opened his door, stepping into a bright office overlooking a hub of activity on this base.

“Winston?” You greeted, finding him deep in thought in front of computer screens scrolling through endless data.

“Hello!” He said warmly. “Please, come in. Commander Morrison said I should expect to see you today. He was saying you’re the best they have at headquarters, I’m thrilled at the opportunity to work with you.”

“Oh-” You laughed nervously. “I don’t know if I’m the best, he might have a slight bias.” Morrison, making you blush when he's not even around. You held your hands to your cheeks hoping to hide the pink from appearing. 

“Well regardless, thanks for taking a look at this with me. I’m open to any ideas.”

That afternoon was one of the most incredible in all of your memories from Overwatch.

It was mind boggling to share your passion with someone else who understood. Although a scientist, Winston knew a surprising amount of coding and showed you all the things he’d been working on. He was attempting improvements on the AI Overwatch used, Athena. He was using her to run simulations, follow more complex orders, the prototype he showed you was able to hold a full conversation with you and you were left wondering if he was playing some sort of trick, wondering if maybe there was a real person on the other end.

He showed you through some of his builds across his lab. He was hoping to create better limb enhancements for those who were injured during combat. When you mentioned Genji his eyes lit up, he apparently knew of the cybog agent but because he was part of Blackwatch, couldn't get through the red tape to find out anything about the technology he was already working with. As soon as you told him Genji had transferred to Overwatch, he was multitasking and writing lengthy 'To Whom It May Concern' emails hoping to get further details to enhance him. 

Then he talked you through the intricate chronal chamber he had Lena, the pilot, in. You might as well have had stars in your eyes reading through all the technology and materials involved in the room just to contain her physical body. After he explained what was happening to her, that she was darting between times, it made your uneasy stomach settle enough to look into her chamber again and understand what you were seeing enough to not connect it to your own trauma. Every now and then you'd see flashes of the girls face, scared eyes looking into yours through thick windows likely wondering what time you were even in and what you thought you were doing staring in there like that.  

Eventually, you were with Winston so long, so late into the night just talking, that Morrison came to check on you. No longer in his armor or commanders jacket, he leaned in the door to listen in on a conversation between a hacker and a scientist that could have been speaking a different language from how little he understood of the conversation.

“Hey handsome.” You said with a bright smile when you finally noticed him reflected in Winston computers screen and turned to face him.

“Hi.” He laughed and waved at Winston to greet him as well. “Just checking in, it’s getting pretty late.”

“Oh my!” Winston said adjusting his glasses and staring at the time on his computer. “Wow, sorry about that Commander Morrison, I suppose we both got a little carried away. You were right about her, she's got some brilliant ideas.” He smiled at you, moving out of the way so you could get past him to the door. “I’m going to run some tests in the reality simulator to see if any of these could possibly affect Lena, hopefully soon I'll have some data to share with you. Goodnight, captain!” You couldn't help but blush from embarrassment at the compliment and wave at him on the way out.  

“Goodnight Winston!” You called from his door after you crossed the room to join Morrison. As you turned and walked down the hall towards the temporary bunks Morrison laughed and ran his fingers through your hair, fluffing it.

“You took to Winston faster than I thought you would.”

“He’s so interesting! I’ve never met anyone who could do huge math calculations so quickly just in their mind before, besides omnics of course, and he’s got all these awesome ideas about what might help Genji if he’d be willing to let Winston look at him-” You rattled off about your new friend until you were at Morrison’s door. Before he turned the handle to bring you in he held the side of your face and just stared at you with a small smile as you finished your thoughts. "-And it's just crazy that he's from the moon. Can you believe that? The stories he had from up there are beyond anything I thought I'd ever hear, honestly it sounded far fetched and I don't think I'd believe it if it wasn't a talking gorilla telling me." You paused and saw the happy look on his face that he was trying to hold back with a bit lip. "What?" You laughed.

"I could listen to you for hours." His head leaned against the closed door and you giggled at him.

"Good, because I have a _lot_ to say." You turned the handle for him, lacing your fingers with his and pulling him into the darkened room. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hugs all around for everyone still here, I really appreciate each and every one of you! (づ ͡° ³ ͡°)づ


	24. Goodbyes & Bittersweet Agreements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to base, it's time to face reality again.

You spent the rest of your days making the most of Morrison’s company. Between quiet mornings and passion filled evenings, you walked with him through the grounds of the watchpoint. He took you to the edge of the cliffs where the sunsets took your breath away as the sky sang in brilliant orange notes over an endless ocean. He sat with you while you visited Winston and excitedly talked about the data on the tests he was running. He held your hand as he walked you through the massive underground system where the base connected across to an intimidating meeting room with a large light the shape of the Overwatch symbol looming above. 

Even in the badly lit temporary commander's quarters on the Gibraltar watchpoint, he still made you feel the same way you did at a fancy overpriced hotel. He kissed you in the dark and until the sun rose bright through thin slats in the old blinds. You made him laugh until his sides hurt and he told you the gossip he heard on escort missions that he always said he was above listening to. You spent hours talking with him about the farm house, making plans to visit again sometime before the year was out. On yellow paper note pads you messily wrote down the ideas for the loft in the upstairs of the house. When his mother’s old piano was restored you thought it’d be nice to have a sitting area up there around it, a place where you could invite everyone over for reunions and could reminisce about the days you were living out now.

“You can grow out that beard of yours and be a grumpy old guy who sits on the porch yelling at kids all day long.” You joked as you straddled his lap in bed one morning.

“Those young punks-” He teased and nibbled at your ear making you giggle. “So, what’s the verdict? I can order the new wallpaper and have it waiting for us by the time we get there, I just need you to make a decision.” He went back to kissing the skin at your neck as you pulled up the pictures on your phone again.

“I do really like the gray one.” You held the phone close to your eyes to look at the detail, light gray with tiny darker gray chevrons across, practically unnoticeable unless you were really looking. “But the blue one is so cute.” You swiped to a soft blue that matched the color of the paneling on the outside of the house, shiny white flower patterns delicately curled up from the bottoms raising to all different heights. “It reminds me of your eyes.” You smiled and the more you stared at it the more you loved it. “I wouldn’t mind looking at that all day.”

“Blue it is." You felt his smile against your jaw and you dropped the phone back to the mattress, tangling your fingers into his hair bringing him into a warm smiling kiss. With your arms already wrapped around him he pushed forward, bringing you to your back against the bed and wandering across your body with kisses. He lifted your shirt lazily over your chest, large hands running over smooth skin, over your scars and burns with loving gentleness. You sighed against him and stretched, happy to spend these few lazy mornings uninterrupted with him.

He was looking down at you as his body hovered above, smile across his face that was so gentle and so full of love it made your heart flutter.

“You really want to spend your life with me?” He asked and his hair hung over his head, loose still from a morning shower.

“More than anything.”

In hindsight, you should have known that morning was special, that he was being extra sweet. In the moment you couldn't have known, you were too wrapped up in his love to see the cogs turning his head, to know about the plans he was making while he bit back his smile and watched you move through the room. There were many things in your life that you would end up regretting, and one of them was not remembering every moment of the days you spent with him on Gibraltar.   

When it was your turn to say goodbye and fly into a cloudy sky, he walked you to the launch bay where the drop ship laid in wait for your small team from HQ. On the way out you stopped by Winston’s lab one last time, getting an update on the simulator that sounded positive, sharing numbers just in case one person had a brilliant idea to share.

It was a chilly morning when you hugged Morrison outside the drop ship until the pilot was rolling their eyes checking out the window wondering what was taking so long. He kissed you soft, for a long as he could, right there in front of everyone, with arms wrapped at your waist lifting you to his height. You whispered your ‘goodbye’s, your ‘see you soon’s, your ‘I love you’s and even though you were parting again, you knew this time it wouldn’t be for long and he waved you off with a big smile and a silly blown kiss that made your heart flutter happily in your chest.

On the ride back to HQ you sat with Combat Medic at the booth while he scrolled through endless emails on his phone. You slyly checked the mission report while your own phone was tucked out of his view between your bent knees, hoping he wouldn't catch on that you had, up to this point, no idea what his actual name was.

“Do you prefer Dr. Daniel, or Franklin?” You asked him once you saw his name. He smiled at you, twisting his white hair into a bun at the top of his head.

“Frank is just fine.”

“Does that get confusing for your patients ever- your last name being Daniel?”

“All. The. Time.” He threw his head back in another laugh and you realized he had some of the brightest white teeth you’d ever seen in your life. You chuckled along with him then chewed at the corner of your mouth.  

“Thanks for having my back with the Gibraltar agents, Frank.” You said hugging your knees close to your body. “I didn’t expect it, especially since I know I was… pretty unkind to everybody in the medical wing when I was there recovering.”

“You were traumatized, we’ve seen worse.” He shrugged. “But, you’re welcome. Us HQ strike team members gotta stick together, right?” He elbowed you jokingly. “One day you can repay the favor.”

You nodded and smiled at him, but you noticed a tint of pink across his cheeks.

“Um, actually, if it’s not too much trouble, I was thinking, maybe you could-” His fingers drummed nervously on the table. “I don’t know, introduce me to that guy that wears the cowboy hat all the time in Blackwatch?”  

You almost burst out laughing until the blush on his face told you he was serious.

“Jesse McCree?” You said surprised. “Of course I can! If you see us eating at the commissary come say hi, or I’ll invite you to a movie night. I’ll make sure you two meet.”

“That sounds great.” Frank tried to hide a smile as he sunk down in his seat nodding and turning back to his emails and you settled down into the booth catching up on your own.   

As you landed back on the base that felt like home you breathed deep, preparing to face Gabe. You wandered through the halls searching for him with your bag still strapped over your shoulder, only to find out from resting agents in the Blackwatch commons that he was running a solo op. Jesse, too, seemed to be off base. Blackwatch was starting to look like a ghost town, only a handful of agents left and those who were there looked like dead men walking- eyes zoned out from hours or days of travel, barely eating off their trays in commissary, hunched over sleeping on common room couches in the middle of the day.

You checked in with Captain Amari, who was busy putting together restructured strike team plans. She smiled when she saw you, but her face was sunken with worry. You offered to help her with plans, or to just get her something to eat, but she politely declined in her 'you don't need to worry about me' voice. She looked overworked, taking on a good portion of Morrison's job while he was away was definitely putting a strain on her. Regardless, you let her know you were always available to help, no matter what she needed, and she responded with a little smile that looked just a touch more real than the one she greeted you with and thanked you.

The rest of your day was spent checking in with other departments, taking a small step towards familiarizing yourself with other strike team members who knew you by name but seemed surprised to see you greeting them so warmly. More friends than you realize. More friends than Blackwatch, and Moira, if you could call her that. You even sat with the engineering crew at dinner, they joked around between themselves but tried to include you in their conversation and you couldn't help but laugh along and grin as they poked fun at each other. 

Everything finally seemed normal.     

* * *

 

If you thought Gabe wouldn’t try to dole out the punishment as soon as he landed back on base that night, you were sorely mistaken. At two in the morning as you were sleeping you heard Gabe’s hard knocks at your door and you groaned into your pillow at the thought of getting up. You slid open your door harder than you intended to, hitting the wall with a smack but Gabe’s exhausted face stared at you, unflinching, arms crossed.

“Really? ‘ _Disciplinary action_ ’?” He asked sarcastically. “What the hell did you say to him on that mission?” He was scowling, clearing wanting to be doing anything but this. You groaned and threw your head back like a defiant child not wanting to tell why they were in trouble.

“I used the whole-” You gestured vaguely at the scars on your arm. “ _This_ situation against him to make us go back in the field for the Talon plans.”

“Well, as the Blackwatch commander, thank you. I understand why you did it. As your friend, you know that was fucked up to do. But as your temporary commander in charge of punishment, get dressed. You’re doing laps until your legs fall off.” He leaned against the door frame rubbing the side of his tired face. You dramatically spun on your heels and collapsed into your bed.

“You look exhausted too. Come on Gabe, can’t we just sleep and pretend like I went running?” Half your face was squished into your pillow and looked ridiculous, but he didn’t look amused.

“Just for that we’re sparring after.”

You grumbled as you gathered your leggings and running shoes in defiant short motions.

“Nope.” You heard him at your door, he was shaking his head pointing at the clothes you were gathering. “Combat uniform. I’m not going easy on you.” Asshole. He was going to make you run in the dark with your heavy boots on, he must really be in a bad mood. You changed quickly as he averted his eyes out to the hall.

Maybe it was for the best you wore the combat uniform- with that on you could hide the extra armor under the high neckline, you could hide your fear of him putting his hands around your throat again. Once dressed, you followed him to the elevators pulling your hair up into a ponytail complaining the whole time.  

At the track, Gabe smugly pulled a chair to the edge to wait in while you made your rounds. With each lap you spat out a string of not entirely professional curses his way, to which he would shrug and shift in his chair with a chuckle. The first handful of times you were still mockingly laughing along with it, but lap after lap your mind and body were sputtering out in exhaustion, the final rounds passing by him in stone faced silence apart from puffs of breath that clouded in front of you and he was nodding off, head falling heavy in front of him with sleep.   

After you passed him the final time and shouted his name to wake him up your legs were shaking uncontrollably, knees weak as you tried to stand upright. You’d run longer than you thought you’d be able to, longer than you should have been able to. How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? Lights from nearby barracks were turning on now, agents waking up for early mornings and you hoped they didn’t notice you outside. You stopped and leaned against the wall of the training building, legs threatening to collapse, wiping your damp forehead and waving the edge of your shirt to let in the cool morning air. Everything in your body told you to get back to bed and get to sleep, your feet ached, your back felt like pins were being pushed in it, neck stiff and eyelids puffy from rubbing them awake.

You didn’t hear Gabe leave the chair or come up behind you, but you knew immediately what he was doing when you heard the quick turn of a heel on gravel.

You spun to face him, dropping to the ground as his arms missed you in a grapple. In the flash of a moment you dove between his feet and wrapped your arm around one ankle taking him off his balance, sending his body forward as yours pulled behind. He was on the ground with you in seconds, you holding his body at the sickeningly twisted angle. You were getting faster, more agile. 

“I’m tired. I don’t want to do this right now Gabe.” You panted down at him when you stood on your feet again. He dropped his head heavy to the ground and closed his eyes while his body adjusted to a more comfortable position. Hands on the top of his stomach dug fingers in to fading green fabric of his sweatshirt.

“That’s why it’s important we work on this now.” He opened his eyes to look into yours, black at the corners. “If you’re exhausted, you’re going to be an easy target, you’ll think and move slower and you might not be able to stop me.”

You sighed and dropped to the ground next to him. The asphalt was cold, even against the backs of your legs in your combat pants and small pellets of gravel stuck into your palms as you pressed them down to support you leaning towards him.  

“We both know we need move past the point of just training to take you down. Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? On the phone you said it was important.”

He sat up and scanned the windows of buildings across the track, checking for any signs of onlookers.  

“I need you to agree to something. It’s not something I’d like to think will happen, but I need your word you’ll do it, if you have to.” His face looked gravely serious, scars across his skin suddenly seeming deeper than usual, bags under his eyes heavier than before.

“What are you asking me to do?”

“I’m asking you to kill me. If I become to dangerous to you, to Jack, Ana- to anyone." He let out a held breath. "I trust you, and you alone, to kill me humanely before I go too far. If it’s you, I’ll understand.”

You sat in stunned silence unable to stop the hard lump in your throat that was trying to bubble your emotions out. He saw your legs shivering from cold and overuse, saw your face struggling to suppress your words.   

“You can’t ask me to do that.” You finally sobbed out as tears fell to your cheeks. “Gabe, you can’t. I can’t promise you something like that.” It felt like your body went numb. Outside it was quiet not even birds were singing their morning songs yet, but in your ears you heard the faint buzzing of static. You tried to hide strained lips and stuttered gasps for air behind your hand, tried to hide the complete devastation on your face.

“Please.” He whispered grabbing the hand at your lap and squeezing hard. He couldn’t look at you anymore, his face turned away and as it did you watched a tear rolling down from the corner of his eye. “I need to know you'll stop me. There's only two people in this world who know what I'm going through, and I don't trust one of them anywhere near as much as I trust you.” His usually deep gruff voice was cracking and he tried to clear his throat but you could hear the struggle. You ripped your hand out from under his and brought the backs of fists to wipe away tears from your cheeks.

His hand stayed curled against your thigh for a moment before his body twisted and he moved to cup your face, forcing you to look his way, at the pained expression stitched into him.

“A part of me will die if I ever have to kill you.” Your voice choked out. Your fingers circled his wrists, holding him to your face and seeking any little bit of comfort you could get. His thumbs tried to wipe your hurt away, tried to erase the evidence of the pain he’d caused you.

He never wanted you to cry, least of all over him.   

“If it comes to that, you'd be killing a shell of a man.” No poetic reasoning would get through to you. No matter how far gone he could be, you don't know how you'd be able to look Gabe in the eye and hear his last breath.

Then it started.

Small plumes of smoke ghosting off his shoulders. The lump in your throat hardened with fear, eyes bugging as you dropped tears down your face and watching in horror as Gabe's eyes were slowly taken over, black creeping past the corners as he stared at you.

“Gabriel-” You breathed out. “Can you feel that?”

“Yes.” His voice shook.

“We need to get you inside. Before anyone sees.” You were speaking barely above a whisper, too afraid to raise it to a normal volume even though the barracks across the track were a field away.

As he stood, he dropped his hands from your face but he kept his eyes on you as you struggled to get on your own two feet. It felt like your heart was beating in your throat as you followed. Your legs shook from running but your hands were shaking from fear. Even though you knew it was dangerous, you walked with him through the double doors and into the dim sparring room, carefully watching the smoke around him grow until it was swirling off his torso into the air. He stopped and turned to you, with endless black eyes and you gasped, almost falling backwards at the sight.

“I'm still-” He took a sharp breath, clenching his jaw and clawing his hand in front of him. “In control.”   

“What are you feeling right now?”

“Its-” He growled, closed his eyes and cracking his neck. “It feels like I’m strong enough to do anything.” He took as step back from you as the smoke thickened and covered an arm. As he spoke his voice was becoming more of a mumble. His hand shot to his gut again, clawing at the fabric.  

“Talk to me.” You cried.

He shook his head and bared his teeth.  

“Can you focus on the smoke? Focus on containing it.” You stupidly took a step towards him with your hand out and immediately his face snapped to you.

His own hand moved lightning quick to grab yours, pulling you down and flipping you hard onto the mat on your back. It knocked the wind out of you but you knew you'd have to move quick and you scrambled to roll out of the way when he bent down trying to grab you again. You hooked a foot at his ankle and jerked, setting him off his balance, but not enough to bring him down.

“Are you still in control?” You shakily yelled out. Your response was a hooked arm at your waist pulling you towards him and fingers roughly squishing at your cheeks together. When you glanced down you realized his fingertips were darker than the rest of his skin, necrotic almost, with smoke pluming off of them.  

“Yes. Fight me. _Now_.” He responded through gritted teeth.

With what little room you had you upper-cut his jaw, hearing teeth knock together he loosened you enough for you to drop to the ground and hook at his knees to topple him over. A large hand wrapped at your ankle tugging you down, your weakened legs unable to stop yourself from falling. With both of you on the floor it was a struggle to see who would stand first, your body shook and hesitated and he shoved your shoulders sending you to your back against the mats again.

This didn’t feel like practice. This didn’t feel like sparring. He looked like he had death in his eyes.

As you went down you pulled his beanie hard over his face, briefly blinding him. With a jerking movement to get away from him, you groaned at a pinching nerve in your back, rolling against the mats and he took the opportunity to rip the hat away. His curls fell loose around his face, hanging down over a sweat beaded forehead. His hand went for your neck but missed as you twisted away with legitimate fear coursing through your veins.

Instead a finger caught at the hair tie against your skull, ripping it out of your hair through the movement and sending your locks wild across your face. You could feel the static building against the back of your head as it rubbed against the mat and you tried to escape from his hold.

The angry expression on him looked just like that night- but now even worse with solid black eyes. His nostrils were flaring as he lunged over you and you tried to reach for Genji’s knives in your pocket, no longer believing he was in control of this. As you fumbled, his fingers locked between yours, clawed hands gripping together in a battle, his strong grip driving your elbows hard into the mats as you struggled to get any sort of upper hand. You kicked him, hard, across his legs, across his midsection, until the bottom of your boots were pressed against his hips, but still, his heavy body pressed you down against the mats.      

“Don't hurt me Gabe.” You pleaded.

“I can control it!” Not even he sounded sure of that.

One of your arms gave, collapsing to the mat and his hand landed hard against it pinning you down. The bottom of your boots scraped against skin as you kicked keeping one at his hip and another moving to his stomach. His body curled above you, seemingly unfazed by the rubber soles digging into super soldier skin.  

He released your other hand and you gasped as his fist came barreling toward your face in its place. In the flash of a second you gasped and closed your eyes, bracing for the impact.

But you felt nothing.

You pressed the back of your head hard against the floor, body shaking and chest hurting from fear tightening and pulsing in your heart, you opened your eyes panting out loud breaths to his shocked face.

As you gasped through dry sobs, you looked down and realized he _had_ made contact, but up to his elbow was smoke. Black swirled across your mouth and nose spiraling up towards him and you wanted to scream but your body silenced you, instead your skin paled and cold sweat clung to your face.  

Fake or real combat finally at a standstill, you shoved him off you with your feet and scrambled away from him.

“Are you doing that on purpose?” You asked between scared breaths.  

“Yes.” His deep voice hissed, eyes watching his arm as he slowly brought the smoke up to his shoulder until there was only plumes of black replacing the limb.

With deep inhales you watched the black slowly form the shape of his arm again, unbelievable smoke materializing as human flesh after just seconds. With a sick pop he twisted his wrist and inspected his hand, bending and testing each knuckle until his solid black eyes flashed up to you.

“Does it hurt?” You asked as you slowly stood to your feet, far away from him.

“A little. It feels like the muscles are strained and sore.” He was on his knees still, shirt halfway pushed up with dirty boot marks across the fabric and his skin, staring at his clenching and unclenching fist. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” His voice was quiet.  

“Yeah? Well, you fucking did.” At some point during the fight you started crying again but didn’t realize it. Your hands wiped away at wet cheeks but your face stuck with your betrayed expression.  

You heard the squeaking of shifting mats when he stood and stuffed his beanie in his pocket, buzzing from overhead lighting and static playing loudly in your ears. He took a step towards you but your body jerked backwards and you shook your head. Gabe sighed out your name through gritted teeth as he held his head between his arms and paced across the mats. In your pocket your phone vibrated and started singing a slow piano tune, your morning alarm telling you it was time to wake up. The reality of the situation was sinking in. Fear subsiding and giving way to a need to protect him, to protect his secrets.  

“We need to go Gabe.” Your eyes darted to the doors nervously, smoke was still gently rising from his shoulders, eyes still deep black. Soon Blackwatch agents would be filing into the sparring room to start their morning routine. You were thankful at the very least you knew Jesse was off base and wouldn't catch him like this, but you couldn't risk anyone else catching him. You swallowed the burning fear in your throat and grabbed at his arm, revealing a worried face and endless eyes to you. “Come on commander. Let’s go.”

It only took a small tug to get him to follow you. He must have felt your hand shaking like a leaf. Once out of the training room and walking through base with slowly lighting purple skies towards the barracks he placed his hand over yours and gently squeezed. When you glanced behind you saw that the color was draining from his face, hair stuck to his forehead, he looked like he was going to be sick. You scanned the halls for him, watching for any movements of agents that might see him in this state, carefully maneuvering him until he was through his door and slumping onto his couch.  

He rubbed fingers against his temples as he sat, eyes closed and head leaned back heavy behind him. His breathing steadied, smoke dissipated and he pushed wet curls from his forehead, but when he opened his eyes they stayed as black voids staring back at you.

“Will you sit with me?” He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and kicked off his boots. You shifted from one foot to the other, gingerly rubbing your arm and eyeing the edge of the door. “I understand if that's asking too much.”

“I'm tired, Gabe.”

“Me too.” He said with sad empty eyes. He looked it. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. You wondered where he ran off to between the time he called you and the knocking on your door. He grabbed the blanket resting on the side and lazily held it out to you. “I won't tell Jack you skipped practice.”

You nodded small towards the floor and heeled off your boots but kept your eyes on his the whole time. Before moving towards him, you paused looking at the mess of a man in front of you. He was going to burn himself out between running solo missions for Blackwatch, trying to hold himself together, and dealing with administrative duties with Lacroix. He wasn’t just burning the candle at both ends, he was melting it with a flamethrower.  

“What’s it like? When they’re like that.” Your finger circled around your own eye in a lame attempt to show how dark his were.

“My vision changes to black and white.” You think he was looking at your face, but honestly it was hard to tell. “But it’s more focused. I can see smaller details.”

“Details?” Suddenly you were very uncomfortable at the thought of him looking your way- too many comic book heroes with x-ray vision from supernatural events making you paranoid.

“I can see your pulse in your veins, and where you were crying-” His hand touched his cheek as he stared at yours. “I can see the scars of the stitches on your arm.” You looked down, running fingers over your scars. You couldn’t see any signs of the stitches that held your skin together long ago, only deep scar wounds from the blast and discolored burn marks. “I can see the goosebumps you have from here.” Could he see the spots Moira injected her cure for your fevers under your fingernails? Could he see the multiple times she landed a needle in your veins at your inner arm or your wrist to draw blood for experiments? Part of you didn’t want to know. “It’s never stayed this long before-” He pushed out heavy air through this nose, his head turned and you assumed his eyes were looking through his room seeing everything in a different way for the first time. He set the blanket down at his lap and nervously played with his hands as his face turned back to you.  

“I don’t want to come near you if you’re still a threat.” Your voice faced the floor.

“I’m okay.” He leaned his head back again, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the end of his sweatshirt. “It seems to get worse with stress and the last few days have been… rough. I know I have no right to ask you, but I’d really like you to join me.” The whites of his eyes were slowly fading back, black creeping to the corners and away from his vision.

With a tight nod, you carefully climbed onto the couch next to him as you stared at your skin on your hands, examining your fingertips for signs of Moira’s influence. With knees curled to your chest you wrapped your arms around your legs, letting your body fall against Gabe’s side.

He spread the blanket across both of you and hesitantly placed an arm over your shoulder, hand landing on your bicep and thumb rubbing against your smooth uniform shirt sleeve. Your head laid against the top of his chest, hitting almost at his collarbone, your body tucked under his arm. He kept you close. You brought your legs over his lap, feet landing on the couch on the other side of him, legs still shaking with small twitches from overexertion.  

“Would you tell me about the nightmares you've been having?” You half mumbled as your fingers dug into the seam of your pants on the side of your thigh. You could feel his breathing jump before he answered.  

“I really don't want to get into that. They're shitty enough to make me not want to sleep, and that’s about as much as I want to say.” The thumb rubbing at your arm became his whole hand gently petting you in soft motions and stopped with a squeeze.

You responded with a little 'hmm’ against his chest. He sounded like you, how you used to when you'd come here after your own nightmares. After he stilled you thought maybe he’d fallen asleep, too tired to talk about it, but when he spoke his voice was against the top of your head, quiet when saying your name.

“I need you to agree to it.” Fuck. You’d almost forgotten what he asked you. The hand at your shoulder squeezed again, his other dropped to your knee and held you close to his body. “Please, I need your word. I’m hoping I can learn to control it, hoping that Moira can eventually find a way to just get rid of it, but I don’t know if I’ll be pushed past the point of no return.” You brought a fist to the front of his shirt, fingers gripping against the fabric as you buried yourself against him. “I know you don’t want to. I know it’s an awful thing to ask, but please, if I’ve lost control I need you to promise you’ll kill me.”

“Gabe-” You lifted your face and you could see the way his lip quivered trying to hide under a dark mustache. “I’m going to start crying again if we talk about it right now. I’m exhausted. You’re exhausted.” Your voice was already shaking. “Can we get some sleep first?”

His face softened, brows cinched together slowly easing off worry and changing to gentle understanding. Behind tight lips you could see him chewing at his cheek wanting to say something but trying to be patient.

“Okay.” He breathed out and nodded. His whole body sank with the release of tension in his muscles, shoulders dropping back and the hand at your knee ran over the same spot over and over again.

You slowly wiggled yourself out from under his arm, falling back to the couch behind you so you were laid down across it and your legs draped over his lap. With a small smile to you he tossed the corner of the blanket your way, giving you more to curl against. Beneath your thighs you felt him adjusting until he was comfortable, sitting low with his legs wide apart propped up on a small side table. Your eyes fluttered closed, mind drifting to black with your arms resting above your head, fingers twisting in your hair searching for a hair tie no longer there.

* * *

 

By the time you woke his room was glowing with the soft light of the afternoon, his face was pushed against the couch backrest and his mouth hanging open. Even sleeping, he still looked stressed out, you hoped he was having a moment of peace, hoped his mind wasn’t filled with thoughts of death and power. While you both slept you had shifted to your side, arms curled in front of you falling behind the cushion and into the unknown depths of the crack in his couch. Your knees bent at weird angles pressing into his hard midsection and he had one hand laid across the back of your thigh, other uncomfortably straight out in front of him.

You didn’t move, initially. You were warm under the blanket and for a second it almost felt how it used to when you’d accidentally nap here after a long night, it almost felt like things were normal. You stretched your legs, shaking sore muscles out and his fingers tightened for a moment before slowly coming to life and rubbing the back of your thigh making making your cheeks burn. His mouth closed and face lifted with a small smile still across his lips.

He opened his eyes and you gasped as your body reflexed to sit up and stare at the return of endless black eyes.

“Shit, Gabe-” Your voice shook but you were interrupted- in front of him his phone lit, vibrating like a racing heartbeat against the metal of his side table and it made your chest jump in fear.

“It’s Jack.” He said in a deep voice laced with sleep. His hand at your thigh left you, grabbing the phone and holding it lazily in front of him, thumb haphazardly pushing the speaker button. “What do you want golden boy?” He asked trying to jest but the phrase slipped out with something malicious behind it.

“Well I was calling to check how things were going with _my agent_ , but you sound like you’re in a bad mood. What’s going on?”

“Just more Blackwatch bullshit, the usual.”

“You need a break. You’ve been working nonstop for years now man, when was the last time you took time off?”

“You’re starting to sound like Ana.” Gabe scoffed at the phone. “I’m doing just fine.” You gave him the most disapproving look you could manage and his face bunched together. It looked surreal, to see him on the phone, to see him acting like himself, but his eyes a solid black.

“You never gave yourself a chance to grieve, Gabe. We’re all worried about you. When I get back let’s just kick back and play darts or something, yeah?”

“Yeah-” Gabe sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, holding the phone out in front of him. “You’ll have to tell me all about the watchpoints, it’s been awhile since I’ve visited any of them.” On the other end of the phone you heard Jack chuckle.

“It’s been a ride.” The conversation paused and you stared at Gabe trying to see a change in his eyes. Jack cleared his throat and the phone shifted with him.

“Your girl did alright with her ‘disciplinary action’ by the way.” He stayed with his face towards you, head lulled against the back of the couch. “Made her run until the sun came up, she almost couldn’t make it back to the barracks. Not as much complaining as you thought there’d be though.” He smiled at you and you shook your head as you swallowed another lump forming in your throat. “She’s tough. You’ve got a good one Jack.”

You bent forward and leaned your head on Gabe’s shoulder at the comment, your stomach jumping as if you were about to cry again.

“I know it.” There was a smile on Jack’s voice. “She’s too damn good for me.”

“Finally something we can agree on.” They both laughed but you wrapped an arm around Gabe's midsection and squeezed, your heart hurting. He ran fingers through tangles in your hair. “I’ve got some write ups to do, when will you be back?”

“Barring any other emergency missions, just under a month.”

Jack continued, telling Gabe to take a break, telling him he needs to try to relax and get off the base. He half joked about Gabe taking you out on a date for him to distract him from work. He ended with a goodbye that you felt echo through your body.

You couldn’t let Jack ever see Gabe like this. You couldn’t let anyone see him like this. If they knew they would be heartbroken. For as strong of a military conglomerate as Overwatch was, Jack, Ana, Gabe, Jesse- everyone, they were all family and a secret like this would destroy them to the core for having not realized sooner something was wrong. You stared at him with worry written across your face as they said their goodbye's to each other, worry staring straight into black endlessness.    

“I guess I should have warned you about my eyes.” He said setting the phone back down.

“That would have been nice.” You sarcastically replied.

“It goes away in about half an hour. I brought it up to Moira but she thinks it’s just a temporary side effect of a nerve agent she’s been testing.” He sighed and rubbed the corner of his eyes. “We’ll see.”

When the room settled to silence you could hear the buzzing of the air conditioner and the light tapping of the wind on the window, you heard nearby footsteps in the hall and muffled conversations between Blackwatch agents heading to their rooms. The noises around you fell heavy against your ears as you tried to sort through the quiet and put your thoughts together.  

“Gabe?” He turned to you again and you grabbed his hand, holding as hard as you could. He seemed to understand exactly what you were going to say before you even spoke again and pulled you into a tight hug, gently swaying as he held you. “Okay, Gabe. I’ll do it. You have my word.” Against his chest you felt heaves that shook his core. “If I have to, I’ll kill you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, I LOVE YOU! (˵ ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°˵)ﾉ⌒♡*:･。.


	25. Code Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two completely different inebriated experiences, and a whole lot of important talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I got carried away again. Sorry it took a bit longer for me to update than usual, this is ~11.1 words so hopefully that makes up for something! ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

You desperately wished time would go faster so you could have Morrison back on base again. The thought of Gabe wrapped in smoke was keeping you up at night and you’d been tossing and turning as you laid in your own bed staring up through your window into cloudless nights. You wanted him back so you could wrap your arms around him and sleep to the sound of his heartbeat, so you could wake up to loving kisses on your cheek before he rushed out the door to his office. Sometimes you'd wander down to the Blackwatch bunks, but Jesse wasn’t spending every night in his own room anymore, much to your dismay. Part of you was also happy about it because you assumed that meant he was spending time with a certain white haired combat medic who you introduced to him over dinner at commissary a couple weeks ago.

Gabe ignored Morrison advise to take a break. Instead he sent himself on more solo missions, picking up slack anywhere he could to keep Blackwatch afloat. While he was gone you spent your time holed up in the computer labs trying to get into the encrypted Talon files you’d found. Even Commander Lacroix came to visit you to see if you’d found anything. He was looking more exhausted than usual.

“No need to worry about me, just a redeye flight.” He responded with a tired smile when you asked him if he was okay. It was more than that. Ana had pulled you aside to tell you in a hushed voice to keep an eye on him, that she’d heard rumors of too many near-death coincidences the commander had escaped recently. When you finally cracked the code to get into the Talon files, the systems had to do their work and it looked like it was going to be days before you had anything you could start going over. Lacroix took control of the plans as soon as they were readable, cutting off your access to them with the reason of not being a ‘real’ Blackwatch agent. Annoyed, you tried to find Gabe to give you access again but he was off base and unreachable.   

You assumed Genji was away on a mission until you got a picture from Winston of him giving a big thumbs up next to the very confused cyborg, the picture made you laugh anytime you looked at it and reminded you that even someone like Genji, who could kill without batting an eye, was as perplexed by Winston as you were. You would have given anything to be there to see his reaction to the talking gorilla, you wondered if he was told about beforehand or if he was surprised the same way you were.

With everyone off base you were left wondering what the hell you were doing as you sat with Moira in the corner of the public coffee shop on base. Her long legs crossed over outside of the table boxing you in as you stared down a pastry filled with some sort of fruity jelly that you bought but suddenly weren’t very hungry for as you spoke with the scientist. In the height of the afternoon while everyone else was working you two were the lone customers while omnic baristas puttered around behind the counter having their own unheard conversations. You tapped your phone again, you’d already been here for almost half an hour and she was nearly done with her black coffee.

“It just seems like nothing you're doing is helping him, Moira. You’ve been with Blackwatch now, how long? Still, he’s falling apart and getting more unstable everyday.” Your voice was more bitter than her coffee and she scowled at you over the drink.    

“Science is a process. If there was an easier way to rid Gabriel of his ailments don't you think I would have done so by now?” She raised an eyebrow at you, but you could never tell if she was being genuine or not.

“Sure.” You stared down at your fingernails, you weren’t going to get into a fight about this here.

“And what about you? Any new side effects?” Her eyes seemed to wander over your face, visually examining and mentally noting every arbitrary imperfection. You wanted to tell her your endurance heightened, that you're beating your record for keying faster and faster each week, but the sinking feeling told you to keep your mouth shut.

“Nope.” You mumbled.

“Perfect. You seem to be doing quite well since the injection.” She leaned forward and pushed the cup out of the way letting a moment pass while she looked you over. “Now, without the interruptions of those pesky commanders, I was hoping you would be willing to test a serum I've been working on today. Gabriel has been has been experiencing some… unusual symptoms recently and I think I've perfected a chemical blocker that could work for him.”

“Work for him meaning…?”

“Meaning, what pain he is still experiencing during the degradation of his cellular structures can be completely blocked. It would prevent him from feeling any pain associated while his body destroys and rebuilds itself each time.” She gave your untouched pastry a curious look before swiping bright red jelly filling from it and tasting it on the tip of her finger. “I am hoping this will also put a stop to his nightmares, similar to how you have stopped dreaming. However I have no evidence to support this and would only be testing a theory on the physiological side of it.”

“What is it going to do to me?” You scooted the pastry her way and saw a thin smile cross her face.

“You may feel similar to how it was the first time you came to me.” She took small bites, enough to chew and speak without a crumb of evidence that she’d even eaten. “I have vastly improved the formulas after Gabriel threw his tantrum and destroyed my previous samples. This time it would only be for the afternoon, and you will be safe so long as you stay in my lab where I can keep an eye on you.”

“And how do you know this will effect Gabe?”

“While I have you injected I will be performing a series of tests on you, both mentally and physically. These tests will tell me if it will effect him as I believe.” Her eyes drifted to the window and the bustle of cars on the nearby roadway as she finished off the pastry. “You seem to have a lot of questions now, anything else I can do to put your worried mind at ease?”  

You paused for a moment, trying to think over the absurdity of the situation. Deep in your gut you knew it was stupid to agree. You knew you didn’t trust her. You knew something didn’t sit right, but still you pushed through the guilty feeling gripping at your insides.

“Okay, but there's something I need you to do for me Moira.” You shifted in your chair, leaning over the table closer to her.  

“Anything.” She said with a sly smile as she leaned toward you.

“I need you to make something for me. Something that could weaken Gabe to an immobile state if he ever gets… out of control.”

“Fascinating request. I suppose I could increase the levels of one of my nerve agents. Of course, if any _normal_ person came in contact with it, it would be deadly.”

“I'll be extra careful with it.”

She shot you a questioning look.

“Give me a few days to put that together. For now, why don't we head over to the lab to get started?”

You were thankful you hadn’t eaten anything, happy you only drank water that morning because it felt like your insides were flip flopping around and threatening at your throat. You followed close behind her tall frame back through the scenic pathways, past the public buildings and towards her lab. As she locked the lab door behind you, you pulled off your strike team sweatshirt and silenced your phone. With a deep breath, you sat in that uncomfortable chair in the corner. The armrests previously riddled with deep nail marks now sported long rips in the shape of claw marks. You ran your fingers over the break in the covering and into the cotton padding beneath. Her fingers were cold as she pressed wave readers to the sides of your forehead and the vein at your neck.

“Nervous?”

“This better not fuck me up again, Moira.” You spoke with venom on your tongue and she slipped long nailed fingertips across the base of your skull and into your hair.

“Why would I want to destroy a perfect test subject?” Her voice was low and right against your ear and you felt your heart drop to your stomach as you sucked in a shaky breath. In a flash she was turned away, preparing vials at a rolling table at your side. “I am careful with the tests I run, regardless of if you believe me or not. I wanted your body to be free of any influences, which is why I have only been testing on your blood samples and not _in_ you these last months.” She sounded actually annoyed that you would have the audacity to suggest she'd ruin you, again. “Do not underestimate me.”

Gabriel. You're doing this for Gabriel, so he doesn't have to suffer. You're doing this so he doesn't have to rip into the armrest of this chair in pain anymore. You're doing this to help him. It will all be worth it in the end, right?

“Besides, why would I ever want to hurt my one and only _true_ friend in Overwatch?”

You were going to be fucking sick if you heard that word come out of her mouth one more time. _Friend._ What a fucking joke. You winced as she rubbed numbing pads against the skin at your wrist, her fingertips agitating the vein until the tip of a needle hovered above it. She always waited until you looked at her. Until you looked her in the eyes. You glimpsed at the tube feeding into the needle, dark liquid slowly fell towards you and under your skin. As it moved it caught the light and you saw flashes of purple, you watched your veins darken until the bag was empty and every drop ran through your body.  

It took a few minutes, but you felt every nerve of your body go numb starting from your nose and slowly spreading down, down, down to your toes. Every breath you took felt like it was dragging you closer to the floor, every grip into the armrest sending the tendons of your arm into twitches and uncontrollable shaking through your hands.

“How do you feel?” Came Moira’s distant voice across the room.

“Cold.” You looked down, dark veins like honeycombs scattered across the backs of your hands. You twisted your wrists, following the extra dark veins up your arm and under the sleeve of your shirt. Hesitantly, you placed your fingertips over your heartbeat. It was slower than it usually was, slower than it should have been. You felt numb. It was a different kind of numb than before. A numbness that you were present for, a numbness that didn't just turn your brain off but instead made you feel like you were just moving a little slower, taking a longer time to process the things around you.  

“Oh, and please be wary. You may have hallucinations.”

“What?” You really wanted to say _what the fuck Moira?_ but your body shivered sending goosebumps across your skin that silenced you with a sharp inhale. She carefully removed the needle from your arm then stared at the screen with your vitals. You could hear the low beeping of your heartbeat and knew something wasn't right, it was too slow.   

In your vision you saw a ghostly version of Morrison, his large form looming over you and holding your face in a small attempt of comfort.

“Jack.” You whispered knowing he wasn’t real, knowing Moira could hear you. Your eyes followed him as he split into two different people, and Gabe emerged from behind him landing a hand on your knee. Through them you saw Moira, she was talking but you couldn't hear a word she said but when you looked down to your hands you knew you were talking back, but you had no idea what you were saying. It felt like you were trapped between two worlds, the living one carrying on as normal, but your mind locked onto Morrison and Gabe and soft touches that you've waited for since leaving Morrison behind at the watchpoint.   

You could feel the hands on your body but your eyes knew they weren’t there. Not-Really-There-Morrison ran his fingers through your hair at the base of your skull and Not-Really-There-Gabe caressed up the inside of a thigh with a sly smile on his face. You gasped at the sensation, at the ghostly feeling of two sets of lips on your skin, under your clothes and across your neck. In the back of your mind you still registered Moira leaned forward on a stool just feet from you, watching as your eyes followed men that weren’t in the room. To tried to look past Not-Really-There-Morrison to the screen displaying your vitals, the lines across were rapidly shooting between highs and lows, but you felt a hand on your chin that forced you to look away and back into Not-Really-There-Morrison's eyes.

‘You don’t really want to see that right now, do you?’ The blonde smirked down at you.

‘Just relax, we’ll take care you.’ You turned your head to Gabe's endless black eyes and even though you were looking at Gabe in front of you, you could hear his voice pressed against your ear. ‘ _I_ _’ll_ take care of you.’ His big hand wrapped around your throat again and there were real tears streaming down your face.

“Please. Please don’t do this.” You whispered.

‘What would you have me do instead?’ His deep eyes wavered in front of you but his voice still rang on the inside of your eardrums. You felt that invisible hand trace slowly down your body until it was playing between your legs. You gasped at the sensation and stared at the backs of your hands, your legs were held tight together but you could feel his fingers running along the inside of your panties.

‘Do you think I can’t see how close you two are?’ Not-Really-There-Morrison looked at you with sad icy eyes, his body standing next to chair watching Not-Really-There-Gabe with one hand at your throat and the other dropped low. ‘Do you think I don’t realize how much time alone you spend together? I’ve always said I trusted you with him.’

Your chest shook and you panted as you felt fingers curling inside you. As your mouth hung open you felt lips against yours, soft kisses like the ones in Gibraltar, ones that you sought comfort in and yearned for. Your vision filled with blond hair and blushing cheeks and you tried to focus, tried to ignore the feeling of Not-Really-There-Gabe running not-really-there-fingers against every nerve of your inner walls and Not-Really-There-Morrison kissing you like his life depended on it. Something about the attention of two super soldiers made your cheeks flush and your body roll against the chair. 

“Moira-” You gasped. The vision of Morrison briefly blurred, you could see Moira frantically writing down on her stupid little notebook. “Make it stop. I don’t want to do this anymore!”

“What are you seeing?” She leaned forward with elbows resting hard against her knees.

“It-it’s-” You brought your knees to your chest and shook as you buried your face in your hands. Not-Really-There-Gabe brushed across your clit and your body jerked.

‘Go on. Tell her. Tell her what I’m doing to you. Let’s see who you’re really loyal to.’ Why would you ever be seeing this, _feeling_ this?

Surrounding you, the lab walls were on fire. The room was filling with dark black ash and the smell of campfire hung heavy in the air and you could feel it again, you could feel every scar, every burn, on your arm opening back up into seething pain that shot through your body, but you couldn’t move. Your body was shifting with the air from absolute numbness to overwhelming pleasure and it was making your head hurt. You wished you were completely numb again, completely numb out of your mind and unable to see visions that your mind was creating as it tried to disassociate you from whatever Moira was saying in her silent speech. 

Down your back and beneath a sweat soaked shirt you could feel Jack’s hands dragging across your skin, gentle hands wrapping at your hips and his body holding you as if you were sitting in his lap. You felt your real body curled in on itself, hiding what you were feeling from Moira, but in your mind Morrison’s big hands were holding your legs apart for his best friend.  

‘Is this what you want?’ Your commander’s voice echoed through your hollow body, his not-really-there-arms moved up and wrapped tight at your midsection. 'What a selfish girl, wanting both of us to herself. Don't you already have enough secrets with Gabe?’ Morrison’s voice felt like it was spilling from your eardrums down into your throat like a terrible sickness but it didn’t stop the feeling of Not-Really-There-Gabe rubbing thumbs at the center of your throat and your body felt him riding into your core. Even with your body tightly curled in a ball, their hands, their touches, they felt so _real._ You could hear Gabe’s heavy breath with every gentle snap between your legs and your real body could feel the phantoms of him in you.

You lifted your head and forced yourself to see through thick smoke that you knew your mind created, but couldn't quite cut through. Moira’s eyes were focused on you, flickering between your body and the screen with your vitals.

When you looked down, the open wounds at your arm were gushing blood, spilling over the chair and pooling to the floor in a puddle larger than should have ever been possible. At the edge of the small lake of your blood you saw Genji. He was in a body you didn't recognize, a human body, dressed in clothes from the medical wing and he was bleeding too, from a gash on his chest where normally his cyborg body would begin.  

'You didn't stop him.’ Not-Really-There-Genji said as he pushed fingers beneath his skin with a sickening squish. You dug your fingernails hard into your legs but couldn't feel the pain. He started pulling tubes out of his chest, one by one popping them from his insides and throwing them to the ground. Blurred by the blood, Moira still sat quietly in her chair her features becoming more and more distorted. A cybernetic and human hand joined the others that wandered your body and you cringed at the feeling trying desperately to get them off you. Hands wrapped around your ankles, trying to pull you away from the chair and you firmly pressed your heels down into the chair. You didn't even have to look up to feel that the person holding you would have a cowboy hat shrouding his face in shadow.

The swing between numbness and pleasure was slowly beginning to be solely taken over by nothing but nausea. You could feel hands touching every inch of you, they wandered where they pleased as voices of the men in your life grew louder and louder over each other and you couldn't understand what they were staying but you know it was making you feel like you wanted to cry until finally it was only Gabe's voice loud and bouncing around your skull. Gabe’s hands at your throat. Gabe’s body pressed against your front and pulsing inside you.

‘Arms up. Never let your guard down.’ You heard Gabe echoing through your mind. You were breathing too hard. You could feel Moira's hands gathering your hair away from your damp neck.

‘Dodge.’ His voice spilled into your throat. Like a scared child you reached for her hand and gripped it and you felt the cold sweat that had gathered.

'Attack from behind.’ Every word pushed further down and filled your lungs with his deep rattling. She lifted your chin and you no longer saw the hallucination of Gabe, but when you looked to Moira’s face her mismatched eyes were replaced with Gabe's endless black and your body lurched forward off the chair.

'Go for the knees.’ Everything he was saying was hooking claws into the lining of your stomach. You fell hard on your knees to the tiled floor below.

‘Fight dirty.’ Whispered, his words pushed at the backs of your eyes.

Your body couldn't take it anymore. It didn't even give you a chance to stop the water in your stomach from rocketing up your throat and into the small trash can near you. As your body tried to rid itself of whatever it was Moira gave you, your mouth filled with what you could only assume ammonia tasted like. You stayed half awake leaned over that trash can for a while only hearing the sounds of trees burning and distant static. Moira gathered your hair to the top of your head and adjusted the wave readers at your forehead. She set little bottles of water next to you that you ignored instead opting to lean over the trash can in bouts of heavy panting.  

“Fascinating.” You heard her after a while when the sound of fire died down, she spoke to herself as she stared at the screen with your stats on it. “The formula is working perfectly, but your body is breaking it down too fast. By all my calculations you should have been hallucinating for at least three hours, but it’s only been twenty minutes.”  

Three hours would have been actual torture. This wasn't a cure. It didn't even make you feel good.  It just made your body numb and your mind break. You didn't want this shit anywhere near Gabe if it was going to cause him to see things that weren't really there, you didn't even want to think about what his reaction would be. She placed gentle fingers at the base of your neck.

“I think, perhaps, I took too much pity on you. In an attempt to ensure you would not have visions of terror during the test I heightened your sample with extra serotonin releasers and I believe that had an… unfortunate effect on the hallucinations you were seeing.”

“Fuck you!” You spat out over your shoulder at her, still shaking. “Don’t you ever put this shit in Gabe! Do you hear me Moira?!” You turned and stood as tall as you could, slapping her ‘helpful’ hand away. Your skin still felt cold but you could feel your heartbeat thudding harder than it had before. “You knew exactly what this was going to do to me, and for what? What the fuck are you trying to do? It's not helping Gabe and I fucking know it!" Your shouting had drawn her back into a corner and even though you were shorter than her, you balled your fists at your side ready to beat the truth from her. She took steadying breaths carefully constructing her reply in her head before answering you.

"You're correct." She finally stated, pushing the hair from her face. "This experiment was not for Gabriel, I am sorry I lied to you. This was for my own personal research." 

"What the hell kind of _personal research_ involves giving someone hallucinations and almost stopping their heart? You're heartless. You've probably never cared about another human being in your entire life, in fact, I'm starting to doubt you're even human at all." You snarled at her and forced your pullover back over your body. She snapped her notebook on the counter as you huffed towards the door and she tried to rush after you.

"Please, everything will make sense if you just-" She grabbed the back of your pullover and you gripped hard on her wrist pulling her face down to your level. 

"Don't talk to me again unless you have what I asked you for. I'm not your fucking lab rat." You slammed the door behind you, hands still shaking and the dark veins slowly disappearing. You made it out the building and halfway to the barracks before your phone was vibrating against your leg in your pocket, you assumed Moira calling trying to convince you to come back to the lab.

 _"What?"_   You shouted into the phone without looking. You were met with surprised Spanish cursing. 

"What's your problem?" Gabe scolded into the phone after the colorful language. Immediately you froze, body remembering everything your mind had him doing to you in that chair. 

"S-sorry." You stuttered out, voice suddenly extra small. "Rough day." 

"Same here." You heard him grunt the way he did sometimes when he sat down after sparring for a long time but your mind went right to the sound of him against your ears while you hallucinated and you stole yourself to the side of the practice range building to lean against the wall. "Is Gérard still giving you trouble about accessing those Talon plans you got for us?" 

"I haven't bothered him in a couple days, but yeah, last time I talked to him he still wouldn't _officially_ let me-"

"I'll talk to him again. He's just been a bit high strung lately, he knows you're a good asset to us."

"Thanks, Gabe." 

"You know I'll always have your back." He paused and you closed your eyes with a small smile. "Anyways, listen, Jesse wants to try to have another movie night when we get back in, sometime this weekend. I wanted to make sure you were okay with that since I know being around me is still... uncomfortable."

"I already told you, I trust you. Just don't accidentally fall asleep during it like you have before, I don't know what I'd do if Jesse saw your eyes all, you know-"

"I know. I'll try not to. Shit-" You heard beeping in the background. "I need to go. Try to have a better day."

"You too." 

You stared at your phone screen until it went black, then at your reflection looking back at you with hurting eyes. You wished things could feel normal. That he didn't feel like he had to tiptoe around you, to ask permission to be in the same room as you. As you held your phone you ran fingers over the now faded veins on your skin, ran your fingers over your wrist to the spot where Moira injected you. Curiously, you couldn't find the hole in your skin where the needle sank to your vein. 

* * *

"Ugh, do you think I can't smell that?" Gabe flared his nostrils and held the back of his hand to his face as you walked into the Blackwatch common room with Jesse who sheepishly looked to you.

"Don't look at me like that, you're the one smoking those damn cigars like you're going to die without one."

"They're relaxin'." Jesse responded as he fiddled with the TV. 

"They're not going to be so relaxing when I make you go running and you won't be able to finish a lap without coughing." Gabe had his hands on his hips and he swatted Jesse on the back of the head. "Stupid." Jesse rubbed the back of his head and readjusted his hat before taking a seat on the sofa on the opposite end from Gabe, not wanting to be lectured at anymore about his cigars. You flopped down between the two, immediately resting your head happily on Jesse’s shoulder while Gabe opened a bottle of cheap shitty whiskey and poured it into little cups for each of you.

“I heard Genji was back on base, he couldn’t make it?”

“Nope, he’s in the medical wing again.”

“What?!” You sat up so quick it made your head light. “Why didn’t you say something? We should go see him-”

“Relax.” You felt a large hand between your shoulder blades as Gabe spoke. “He just had some adjustments made to his body, it sounds like Dr. Ziegler figured out a better way to deal with those tubes on the back of his head after input from Winston.”

“Jesse, don't scare me like that!” You growled as you hit his chest with the back of your hand.

“Sorry darlin’.” He drawled as he took a cup from Gabe and dropped his head back with a long sip. 

“What about Dr. Daniel, shouldn't we have invited him?” You asked with a low voice way too close to Jesse’s face.

“Ugh, no.” He was trying too hard to act disgusted. “That man’s in a good place in his life. I appreciate you introducin’ us and all, but he doesn’t need the kind of mess Blackwatch brings.”

“You don’t even want to try with him?” You were almost hurt that Jesse would push away someone who was clearly interested and spending time with.

“Oh darlin’ we tried, but we’ve got two very different lives.” He removed his stupid cowboy hat and tossed it to the side landing on a nearby table. “We’ll still be seein’ each other, just not in a romantic way, if you catch my drift.” He winked at you and you groaned at Jesse’s actual inability to form meaningful relationships.

“You’re killing me Jesse.” You deadpanned then rolled your eyes at the thought of getting into it right now with him and instead opted to down some of your own drink.

“The man’s got stamina you wouldn’t believe, probably rivals that super soldier of yours.”

“Jesse!” You almost spit out your whiskey. 

“You’ll never guess what he’s into-” Jesse was grinning like a madman and that stupid look on his face had you way too curious.

“Okay, you’ve got me. What?”

“Role playing. Where’s _he’s_ the patient. Ain’t that just the silliest thing you’ve ever heard?” He was leaned forward waiting for your reaction and you brought a finger to your chin in thought.

“I mean, I guess I can see where he’s coming from. Sometimes Morrison and I will switch ro-”

“It’d be nice if we could stop talking about everyone’s sex lives. I’d like to watch that movie now.” Came Gabe’s annoyed voice behind you on the couch. When you turned to look at him over your shoulder you saw his face was in his hand, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose while he stared at his phone typing away at a message trying to ignore you both.

“Don’t be bitter just cause you’re not gettin’ any commander.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry Gabe. I forgot you were there.” Your cheeks were burning with blush and you turned back in horror to Jesse who looked like he was about to laugh his ass off. As if the hallucinations weren't bad enough this added an extra layer of blush across your face.  

“I say let the girl finish her thought!” Jesse proclaimed gently shaking your shoulder, egging you on to continue.

“I can, and will, write you both up for drinking on base.”

“You bought the whiskey!” Jesse laughed-shouted back him. You hid your face behind your hands in pure embarrassment as you fell forward and buried yourself against his shoulder trying to hold back awkward laughter. Gabe grunted dramatically as he started playing whatever it was Jesse chose. You curled against Jesse, tucking your legs beneath you with the ends of your toes pressing against Gabe's leg as the three of you drank and laughed at a lame spy movie.       

“You know what’s some grade A bullshit?” Jesse slurred toward you as the movie was reaching its final arch.

“Please, enlighten us.” You didn’t even have to turn around to know Gabe was rolling his eyes at you encouraging him. 

“That I signed up for this super secret spy organization-”

“That’s not what Blackwatch is, Jesse-” Gabe deadpanned. 

“As I was sayin’, _spy organization_ , and you know what I never even got? A code name. It’s bull. Shit. Bullshit.” He was shaking both your shoulders as he looked at you intensely, then pointing a finger behind you to Gabe. “I want a fuckin’ code name.”

“We don’t _use_ code names. All our communication is encrypted.” You laughed as you tugged gently at the short hairs on the sides of his cheeks.  

“C’mon now, don’t tell me you’re on his side!” Jesse cried and flopped back against the couch. “I already had the perfect names too!” His hands shot to the air as if he was calling to the heavens for help convincing you both that Blackwatch needed code names. 

“Oh, I’ve got to hear this.” You dramatically looked over your shoulder to Gabe who fell against the couch with an exasperated sigh. Jesse jumped to stand in front of both of you, crouching in a stance that looked like he was about to spout off an over dramatized monologue.

“Okay so, hear me out now. At first I was thinkin’ birds! Gabe’d be code name Crow, I’d be Roadrunner, you woulda been Albatross, Genji woulda been Sparrow, ‘cause apparently that used to be his nickname-”

“Wait, pause. Why was his nickname Sparrow?”

“I dunno, his brother called him that. But see, that’s ‘sactly why we _wouldn’t_ go with birds. Don’t wanna be insensitive an all.”

“Right. Continue.”  

“So then I thought, gemstones and stuff! But gave up on that pretty quick because it’d be too obvious, it’s gotta be something that people actually talk about, ya know?”

“Please, get to the point Jesse.” Gabe couldn’t have sounded more annoyed if he tried.

“Well I was thinkin’ ‘bout how I call you sunshine and I thought that fit just perfect. People talk about the weather so it'd be just like havin' a normal conversation! So, I'll go quick now-” He pointed at you. “Sunshine! Gabe, Thunder! Genji, Tsunami. Me? Dust Storm, obviously.”

“Obviously.” You sarcastically said to Gabe with a flick of your wrist for emphasis and he finally let out a little laugh. “Sorry. Obviously, Commander Thunder.” You corrected and Jesse almost fell to the floor in a fit of laughter.

“I don’t really consider you much of a ‘sunshine’. Sunshine is someone who would be happy and have lots of positive energy, you're-” Gabe leaned towards you just trying to annoy you. “You’re more obnoxious than just sunshine, got too much of an attitude.”

“You’re right boss. She’s quick, she’s more like…” Jesse trailed off with a finger to his chin. “Honestly with the way you two work together, she’s the lightning to your thunder. She’s like _lightning_.”

“Lightning.” You repeated back at him with a sharp nod. You turned to Gabe who made a thoughtful approving face.

“Lightning, then.” Jesse leaned forward and flicked the end of your nose. "Now, when we're out on a mission-" Jesse continued, but you fell against Gabe's side and spoke low. 

"I think he needs a break from being alone in the field, I think he might actually be going crazy on all those solo missions." You said under your breath to him. You could feel him laughing against you and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder to give you a tight side hug as you both watched Jesse ramble on in front of the movie. You don't remember Jesse ever being able to handle his alcohol this well, if you can call it that. Usually a couple of drinks in and he was passed out, but here he was running his mouth on and on as you pretended to listen and leaned back on Gabe's arm at the headrest behind you.    

By the time the credits were rolling he had completely changed the subject to his ideas about incognito disguises. Jesse’s head turned to face you and a big stupid smile spread across his face as eyes fell past you. He cut himself off from his own speech and leaned forward. 

“Hey darlin’, what was it you were sayin’ earlier? ‘Bout you and that commander or yours role playin’ in the bedroom?” That certainly brought you out of the glazed over look in your eyes. You shifted at Gabe's side and he took in a sudden big breath as if he had been falling asleep. Your cheeks burned both because of the question and the way Gabe's hand landed on your hip when it fell from the backrest. Jesse kept glancing suspiciously behind you with that stupid smile plastered across his lips. Instead of answering him, you shot up to look over the back of the couch and saw a very tired man in a bright blue commander's jacket grinning at you.   

“Jack!” You gasped out. You practically leapt over the couch in a hurry to get to him, legs and arms in all directions accidentally hitting Gabe in his side as you hopped over the backrest and straight into Morrison's arms. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t supposed to be back for another week?”

He answered with deep kisses, uncaring about making the other two in the room uncomfortable with the intense display of affection. You felt him smile against you and you moved to kiss at his cheeks with peck after peck until he was chuckling against your smothering.

“Geez you two, want us to leave the room?” Jesse drawled as he drunkenly motioned between him and Gabe. You pushed your hair from your warm blushing face as Morrison set you down on your own two feet.

“Hey Gabe, McCree.” He nodded toward them both. “I got back in early, we didn't know if we were coming back to the base or not until we were up in the air. Wanted to come say hi before I went up to the room.” He leaned down to kiss you again.  

“I’m- um-” You licked your lips and stared at the two men on the couch before returning your gaze to him. “A little drunk.” You tried to suppress a giggle and Morrison placed a small kiss on your forehead.

“I think I worked that out on my own.” He laughed. “Hang out with them, I’m going to go get cleaned up and start putting my stuff away. Just come up to the room when you’re ready, okay?” His fingers held your chin and you smiled at him as you swayed into his touch. “And Gabe, we’re going to have to have a talk about getting my agents drunk.” He pretended to scold but Gabe rolled his eyes through a chuckle waving off the blond commander.

"I missed you so much." You hugged Morrison tight and buried your face against his armored chest. You heard Jesse pretending to make gagging sounds behind you, but Morrison smoothed your hair and hugged you until you were ready to let go. 

"I missed you too." He said with a smile. "I don't want to ruin your fun, I'll be upstairs when you're done." He ruffled your hair and threw his bag back over his shoulder as he waved to you when he left. You dragged Jesse by the hand to the couch with you to sit and you leaned against Gabe as you stretched out your legs over Jesse's lap.

"Still think he's no good for me?" You challenged Jesse. His cheeks went pink and he mumbled down towards your feet. "Sorry, didn't catch that?" You sarcastically said as you pulled on the sleeve of his shirt. 

"Said he seems like he's treatin' you alright." He turned to look at you. "But you know I'll kill the man if he hurts you." Jesse had a dark look on his face as he sank down in thought and leaned his head against the backrest. You felt Gabe's fingers tighten, digging into his own leg. It didn't take long for Jesse to pass out after that. You gently nudged him with your feet, testing to see if he'd react but he stayed slack jawed and face up to the ceiling heavy with drunken sleep. 

"Lightweight." Gabe mumbled. You turned to Gabe who was already staring at you with a weird look. “Let’s take a walk.” Gabe fiddled with his hands in his lap. “I can tell something's been bothering you all night.” His voice dropped low.

You paused, rolling your lips between your teeth before you nodded and stood, offering a helping hand he didn’t really need but he took it anyway. It was chilly out, but not cold, especially not with the whiskey running through your veins. You held your arms close to you as you wandered into the darkness of the field behind the barracks. 

"Do you want my sweatshirt?" He asked when he noticed you rubbing your arms. 

"No, I'm okay Gabe." You sighed and stopped walking looking to his shadowed face only lit by distant street lights.

You felt weird. Like you'd cheated on Morrison with Gabe, but neither of them knew it. Your mind would sometimes wander and think if what your body felt was accurate to how it would feel, but then warm guilt would spread in your stomach and make you feel like you needed to roll on your side and chew at your nails to take your mind off it. 

"You've been avoiding eye contact with me all night. Am I still scaring you?"  

“No, it's not that. Well. It's a little bit of that, but it's more so that I'm worried about you still. Even though you're getting control over that smoke, your body eventually wont be able to handle it anymore. Is Moira doing anything to help you, anything at all? I mean, won't you tell me how her tests on you are going?” God, you felt like you couldn't stop talking. You hoped you still had enough control over the whiskey to not mention the hallucinations you had. 

“They're fine.” He was such a liar, you saw the rips in the chair, _fine_ is not how you would describe them. “If I’m being honest though, I’m finding it a lot more beneficial to train with you. I’m... not so sure Moira will fix whatever is wrong with me.”

"She made the pain better though, right?" 

"Yes, but-" He kicked down at the dirt below him. "Something's not right. She's brilliant, she's willing to bend the rules to get results, but still I've only gotten worse since I hired her on."   

“Gabe?” You placed a steadying hand on his elbow as you leaned forward. “Do you not trust her?”

“I'm suspicious of her.” He spoke as a whisper leaned close towards you, ensuring even though you were alone out here, only you could hear him in the still of the night air. “Actually, I might have a mission for you. She's supposed to go to some geneticist conference in the UK at the end of the month, could I ask you to tail her?”

"Absolutely." You were all too happy to. Maybe then you could get some real answers about what the hell she was pumping into you days ago.

"I'll slip the details about it under your door so there's no trail of it. You'll need to be stealthy, but don't let her stray too far."  

“I'll do my best, Commander Thunder.” 

“Don't call me that.” You couldn't see but you just knew he was rolling his eyes.

You laughed and he kept a straight face but he ruffled the top of your hair and dropped his arm around your shoulder as you both continued the walk, this time heading back to the barracks. You stopped him again, this time to squeeze him in a tight hug. He seemed unsure about hugging you back, arms hovering around you but not touching. 

“I'm drunk and I just want a hug, Gabe. I know you get scared sometimes to touch me, but I promise, things can only get back to normal if you pretend like they already are." Your voice was muffled against him and you felt his stomach jumping with small laughs before his arms held you tight.

"That's not-" He stopped himself, seemingly also losing his filter to the whiskey and you felt his face against the top of your head. "That's not why I hesitated." 

"Then why...?" You turned your face to look up to him and he strained back a smile.   

“Let's get you up to Jack, I know he's missed you and I'm sure he's dying to see you.” His arms left you as he took as step back and your hands fell to your side again. You contemplated pushing him on the subject, but decided against it, too afraid you would spill your own secrets given the chance. He walked you to the barracks and back into the elevator. With a small smile to him and a quiet goodnight in the mirrored walls he exited on his floor with a little nod to you. 

* * *

 

Morrison was at his small dryer folding cleaned laundry by the time you snapped through his door. His head turned to you with a big smile and you practically ran at him needing to be in his arms again. He dropped a uniform shirt on the pile in front of him and scooped you up holding you tightly to his body, lips crashing against his and your hands holding the sides of his face to prolong breathy kisses.

“Have fun tonight?” He whispered against you before walking forward and bringing you to his fluorescently lit kitchen.

“Too much.” You coyly responded, ignoring your conversation with Gabe. He brought you to his counter, setting you against it and groaning low in his throat as he kissed down across your jaw and over your neck, tugging the collar of your pullover down to the base of your throat.

“Getting into trouble without me here?” He said leaning back and pushing your hair from your face.

“Always.” You smiled back at him. He kissed you again and you were sure he could taste the whiskey, but he didn’t seem to mind. With the warmth of the alcohol, the blush on your face and his arms wrapped at your waist you were almost melting into his touch. Being in his arms just felt so right. It felt like they were molded to hold you, hands curving perfectly along your warm back. “Can you take my sweatshirt off?” You mumbled against him.

His large hands slid beneath and helped you pull it over your head. He chuckled under his breath at your dramatic sigh as you felt your body breathing again. In front of you he kneeled, fingers working to also untie laces of your running shoes, pulling off each along with your socks. You stretched and curled your toes, giggling when he bent forward and placed kisses on the tops of your feet.

“Better?”

“Better.” You grinned at him as he stood and held you again, sneaking a hand under the edge of your shirt and holding your hip as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m going to get you some water too. If I know Gabe, he doesn’t stay hydrated when he drinks, so my guess is you didn’t either.” He spoke over his shoulder as he filled a cup for you and held it out.

While you sat on the counter and sipped the water he told you about his flight back, and the meetings he'd been in with the directors and how Petras was still talking his ear off at least every week about his relationship with you. You swung your feet beneath you until he decided you'd had enough and he wrapped your legs around his waist to carry you to the bed. He was gentle with you, hands exploring the body he missed and you blushing harder than you normally would with the false memory of other hands joining him. Your body squirmed happily under his tickling touch as his fingers became softer with you until you were outright giggling at him teasing the sensitive spots of your skin. While you were laughing and twisting against the bed you faced his wall and saw his normally secured safe in his wall was left wide open. 

"Oooh, what were you getting in to?" You asked with your voice towards the safe. He was pretty secretive about what he had in there, you guessed it was probably top secret papers for the most part, but from here you could also see a covered handgun. 

"Just putting some stuff away." His body leaned heavy against yours, his smiling lips trailed up the back of your neck giving you goosebumps. There was a low moan deep in his chest as he rocked against you. "I love you, so much." 

"I love you, Jack Morrison." Your voice sounded distant, sleepy. You could feel he wanted to keep you up all night, but he sat up and dug massaging fingers under your shirt and into the skin on your back up your spine, slowly circling out knots you didn't even know you had. "Okay, now I _really_ love you." He laughed as he continued working your sore muscles. 

You closed your eyes, you thought for only a second, but when you opened them again you had been tucked under blankets on your regular side of the bed and Morrison was curled against your back, hand resting on your hip. Yellow sun was sneaking through the windows and you opened your dry mouth in a silent yawn. You snuck off to the shower before he woke up, carefully peeling yourself away from the bed and closing the door to his bathroom as quietly as you could. Your skin was stuck with sweat, whiskey, and Jesse's cigars and it was making you nauseous.

He was still laid under the covers when you tiptoed back into the room to rifle through your drawer that held the last of your clothes. You'd need to bring some back up here now that you wouldn't be alone anymore.  

"Did you use my soap?" Behind you he propped himself up in the bed. 

"I like to smell like you sometimes." You cheeks were burning, you'd used it without realizing, too used to wanting to feel close to him while he was away. 

“That's adorable." He chuckled as he fully sat up and shifted beneath the sheets. "How'd that running with Gabe go by the way? I never got the chance to ask you.”

“Fine.” Your heart jumped a little. “I think he went easy on me.” It felt like you had the word ‘liar’ tattooed across your forehead.

“He probably did. Gabe really appreciates that you went back for those plans, he said there's some useful stuff in them.” You sure do wish you had access to them. Morrison sat against the backboard with a stupid smirk. “Since he didn't punish you properly, I guess I’ll have to.” Oooh, it was that kind of morning. 

“Commander Morrison-” You fake scolded. “I already performed my disciplinary duties.” It was your turn to smirk. You turned and watched him with half lidded eyes over your shoulder, seeing him adjusting himself with a hand at his center.

“I specifically recall the running was only for talking back, I can also write you up for using a commanding officers weapon.”  

 _“I specifically recall_   that you almost couldn't control yourself _because_ I used a commanding officers weapon.” You fluffed wet hair and purposefully let the towel at your body slip just enough to make his chest shutter as he watched you. His head lulled back to the headrest as he bit at his bottom lip. 

"Do you want to see what happens if you keeping being insubordinate?" He was patting his lap, silently telling you to get your ass over to him. Oops, there went your towel. 

He scooted to the center of the backrest leaning his shoulders back and kept his hands in the air while you carefully lowered your hips to his lap. Before you landed against him you teased, hovering your hips high in the air with little wiggles that made him laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. A hand landed on your calf, slowly trailing up over the back of a thigh, dragging his thumb along a line of your inner thigh sending a warm shiver through your body.

His hand rubbed along you, over the curve of your ass and onto your lower back, slow sweeping motions that comforted you and made you whine. With each gentle swipe across your skin you were becoming more and more impatient, squirming more in his lap anticipating the first spank that would send your nerves on fire. He made your body twitch when fingers would lightly run over exposed folds between your legs, making you moan and grind down against the air by the time he’d passed over the spot.

He slowly trailed across your skin again.

And again.

And again.   

“Please, Jack-'” You finally gasped into the sheets after it felt like he'd been teasing you forever. 

“I like having you like this.” There was a smile on his voice but it was dripping with passion. “Look at how wet you are for me. How inappropriate, this is supposed to be a punishment and you can't even contain yourself.”

“Like you're one to talk.” You groaned as you pushed your hips toward his hand hoping to catch him off guard and and get something, _anything,_ more than he was giving you. 

“I don't think I like your tone.” His hand was getting rougher. Gentle caresses turning into aggressive squeezing across your ass and down your thighs and his hips bucked against you rubbing his hard cock against your stomach.

“Bite me.”

“Excuse you?”

“Bite me, _commander_.”

Just a little push and that's all he needed to bring his large palm hard against you. It stung and made you gasp when he finally hit you with an echoing slap, your back arched against the sensation driving down against his lap and your hips rode into the pain.

“Anything else to add, agent?” Ooh, that stupid smirk was in his voice.

“For a super soldier, that was a weak-”

Another hard slap against you making you moan and whither against him sounded off before you could finish your smug sentence. You gritted teeth through the moan and pushed loose hairs from your face as you trembled under his touch gliding across your skin over the spot he hit. With a glance over your shoulder you opened your mouth to say something again but were cut off again with another one and your desperate cry of pleasure rang through his room again.

Relief came in the form of his thumb running along your slit, gently pushing and teasing at your entrance. You let out a shaky sigh as you finally felt the pressure of his thumb pushing into you, slow and careful he knew exactly how to torture you until you were grinding your hips in the air at him and practically drooling onto his sheets.

“Think you've had enough?” His question was almost breathless, you could feel him pulsing beneath you, waiting on your word to bury himself deep inside you.

With a wiggle of your hips he took his hand from you and you carefully moved yourself stomach down against the bed between his spread legs. Your ran your hands over his muscular thighs, palms over light hair that trailed across his body. He happily leaned back with a smile on his lips and his eyes admiring the pinking palm prints across your backside. Your hands wandered to his hips, gripping them and digging nails in as you looked to his eyes and slowly licked from his base to his tip. His hand laced into your hair as you waited with your tongue pressed flat on the tip of his cock.

“Do you think you can get out of a punishment by being sweet to me?” His hand dropped from your head to your jaw and lifted your chin.

“Maybe?” You slyly responded as your mouth took him. He groaned with every inch of him you carefully took into your mouth, his stomach twitched and fingers gripped into your skin but he couldn't help himself from gently rolling his hips with your drawn out sucking. It hurt your jaw, sometimes, to take him all at once like that. You tried to give yourself a second to adjust, running your tongue around him as your nose pressed to his soft trimmed hairs but stayed there just a moment too long for him.

“If you don't keep going, I'm going to hold you against this bed and fuck you until you can't talk back anymore.” He was twitching in your mouth, and you smiled at the thought of him manhandling you to get what he wants. With as much of a smile as you could manage while he was between your lips, you leaned your head back to look at him. Behind you, you brought your feet to the air twisting them across each other as you curled your toes waiting for his reaction.

He waited patiently for you to move again, eyes intense until finally you pulled from him and kept your tongue pressed against his length the whole way out. Once he was no longer filling your mouth you placed a sweet kiss against his tip and playfully swung your feet back and forth in the air.

“I’m not going to go easy on you.” His voice was dangerous, but _good god_ did it send a hot shiver straight to your core.  

“Sounds to me like you're all talk.”

He brought a hand back to your chin, roughly making you look up to him. The thumb he very recently had hooked in you ran across your lips.

“You want to wipe that smirk off your face, agent?”

“Make me.” You kept that smile across your lips as he pushed his thumb in and you sucked through a moan while he pushed your chin up, forcing you to crawl up to keep his finger in your mouth. He lifted you until your face was almost against his and he ripped his thumb from you, replacing it with his lips, kissing you hard and tugging at the back of your hair. As he kissed you, both your hands wrapped around his cock, pumping him and making him come just a little more unhinged as he roughly kissed you.  

Before you knew it, his hands were at your hips and he tussled you until he had you pinned against the bed, stomach pressed hard against the mattress, feet hanging off the edge barely able to touch the ground with your toes. One hand held both your wrists against your back, the other rubbing small circles against the marks he'd left on the curve of your cheeks.

“Now then, let's make this clear. Are you allowed to use a commander's gun without permission?”

“Only if it turns him on.”

“Wrong answer.” The hand rubbing you brought down another hard smack on the same spot.

“Only if I want him to spank me?”

“Still not correct.” Two this time, each making you moan loud into the messy sheets. While you were distracted and shaking with a mixture of pain and pleasure he had steadied himself between your legs. You grinded back against him as you felt him pushing at your entrance and he drove into you, pushing against your walls and short wiring your brain for a moment before it registered the full feeling and your legs tried to squeeze against him.

“Do you want to give me the right answer or are you going to keep sassing me?”

You wiggled your hips and bit back a giggling moan. The grip at your wrists tightened but you could feel every twitch of his cock in you that told you he was absolutely loving this. 

“You have quite a different attitude about this now compared to what we did in the drop ship.” You said breathlessly turning half your face to him while the other side pushed into the sheets. 

“I'm tempted to leave you the same way now if you don't tell me what I want to hear.” Ooh, there was that Commander voice of his mixed with a hard snap into you, driving you against the mattress and sending shivers across your body. You responded by pushing your hips back against him and letting out a satisfied moan. "Last warning, I'm not going to be nice if you keep this up." 

You both stayed still, his fingers gripping at your wrists pressing at your back, your chest and face pushing against the sheets with your mouth hanging open wanting to tell him to just take you however he wanted. With no response he pulled himself from you and landed another spank across your cheeks and you almost came just from the feeling of his fingertips grazing across your exposed hole. 

"I don't want you to be nice." You finally got out after a held moan. 

It wasn't often he just _used_ you. Usually there was a mix of loving touches, sweet kisses to your neck to go along with the manhandling. Not this time. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as he continually drove into you over and over again. With his free hand he made sure you knew who your body belonged to at the moment. Pinching and rolling at your clit, squeezing and twisting sensitive nipples. Fingers gripping around your wrists and pushing at the back of your head. He was being rough and it felt _so good_.

He made you cum as a shaking groaning mess around him while he hilted in you over and over again and left burning pink marks across your ass, but even then he didn't give you a break to recover.   

The super soldier in him was quickly taking over. He had you almost delirious. Brain going foggy with pleasure, eyelids fluttering and your limps slowly feeling more like jello, he had you constantly on the verge of a second orgasm. You were babbling to yourself, rattling off his title and how he was going to leave you a wreaked happy mess. He was definitely going to leave bruises this time, you could already feel the sore red marks where he spanked stinging against the air, could feel hickeys forming as he sucked anywhere his teeth could land across the base of your neck, along the smooth skin on your chest when he flipped you around and dug fingers into your open thighs for him to watch you as he brought you further and further away from rational thoughts.

By the time he came, he was gritting his teeth from holding back for so long, sweating down the side of his face from delaying the inevitable in order to see you lost beneath him. The nerves in your limbs buzzed, exhausted from overuse and already feeling sore. He was holding at your waist like a handle to your body, doing the work for you to pump you over him. Before he was even done you could feel him leaking out, warm pulses continued and filled you, and he leaned heavy over your body breathing onto your overheated skin through his final twitches. You whined when he pulled from you and dropped fingers to your sore entrance, pushing his leaking cum back in you and pumping against inflamed nerve fried walls.

“One more time. Let me hear you one more time.” He asked so sweetly but you didn't know if your body could manage it.

While you laid with open legs and overfilled, he worked and curled fingers in you bringing you back up again, circling his thumb against your swollen clit. He was mumbling about how good you looked, about how much he loved being able to do this with you. He was saying dirty things a commander should never say to their agent that made your cheeks burn with blush again, that made you mind wander to other unholy places and to all the other things he wanted to do to you. Your body twitched against his fingers, against the blessing and the curse that was his ability to drive you over the edge anytime he wanted. 

The last orgasm wasn't as intense as the other two, but still, your mind went blank as your hips pushed against him and eyes fluttered through. You were left an immovable mess, riddled with forming bruises and dark hickeys, a delirious smile on your face and eyes that felt like they were drifting back to sleep.   

“Feel good?” He pulled his fingers from you gently and kissed your inner thighs before standing above you again. 

You tried to speak but instead you just hummed back at him, weak fingers squeezing anything on him you could reach. He kissed at your hand, lips pressing to your knuckles and your fingers. Carefully, he wiggled his arms beneath your limp body and scooped you up with a peck to your forehead.

“You can go to sleep if you want, I'll clean you up.” He placed a kiss to the end of your nose too for good measure and you smiled as you closed your eyes and let your head fall against his shoulder.

You didn't fall asleep, but you weren't quite awake either. Eyes stayed half lidded as you watched him running water for a bath in his tiny tub, you barely held yourself up as you sat on the edge waiting for him. He helped you into the warm water and carefully ran his hands along every part of your skin. You closed your eyes and remembered the hallucinations of hands all over you, but this felt so much gentler, the way he touched you, even after using your body for his own pleasure, was still filled with love and he handled you with care. He sat on the cold tile outside the low tub, ridiculously naked but happy to help you like this. 

"Still awake?" He asked as he maneuvered between your legs with soap.  

"Mm-hmm." You opened your eyes fully to meet his. 

"So, not sure if you're interested, but there's a charity event that all the directors and commanders are going to in a couple months. We're allowed to bring a plus one, and I was hoping you would come with me. There's free food, free drinks, I could see you all dressed up-" 

"A dress?" You stitched your eyebrows together as you leaned towards his face. "Over my dead body." Your voice was rough from the throaty noises you had been making. 

"Petras will be there. We can rub it in his face that we're together still." Now that got you excited. Oh Jack Morrison, he really did know that you'd do anything out of spite. 

"I'm in." You smiled as you fell forward into a kiss with him. 

    


	26. Conventions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HQ will have some visitors soon & reader follows the mad scientist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter one this time, I should be updating again within the next couple days! <3

It was easy to settle back with Morrison. Moving your clothes back to his room, sleeping on your usual side of the bed, using your own soap again. Occasionally you'd wake up early with him, sitting curled with your knees to your chest at the same small table you usually did in his kitchen while he made a quick breakfast, otherwise on mornings you'd sleep in you would feel his big hand smooth out your hair while it rested against the pillow and a quick kiss to your temple before he rushed out the door to start his day. He filled your days with caring love, but didn't realize he was making comments that made your skin crawl. He'd joke about how quickly the hickeys he gave you faded, you'd laugh it off, but in the mirror you'd stare at blemishes that should have stayed well beyond the time they disappeared from you.  

At lunch you tried to make it a point to find Genji, you'd force yourself into the seat next to him and ask about how his body modifications were going, how he liked the strike team, if he needed help with anything. He made you laugh the way he talked about Winston, sometimes getting so wrapped up in telling his stories about his time in Gibraltar that he'd accidentally slip into Japanese and you'd have to remind him the only words you spoke in his native tongue were the curses he taught you.

Of all the routines, the secret sparring with Gabe was the hardest thing to keep separate. Practices were cut short or ignored all together if your times couldn’t meet up.

He was slowly gaining control though, slowly but surely he was able to will a finger or a limb into the smoky state without the emotional impact of it. The worst was hiding his eyes from everyone. When he forced the smoke his eyes would get solid black and stay that way for too long afterwards which more often than not meant spending extra time just sitting around waiting for his eyes to go back to normal before heading back to the barracks. But it was getting faster. He'd take controlling breaths and sometimes the endless black would be gone before you could say something. But, you’d catch yourself staring at him at times around other people still, watching for the change and feeling a pit in your stomach when he’d get extra frustrated, or slam his hand down just a little too hard and you could see just the briefest flash of black that made you suck in quick breaths.

Late into one evening after you were both sweaty and jelly limbed from practice you sat next to him on one of the cold metal benches that overlooked the sparring room while he was trying to focus on controlling it. 

“So, what is it? Voices? Like do you hear someone telling you to hurt people?” You asked him after he wiped sweat from his forehead with his beanie and let his curls hang loose around his forehead.

“I don’t hear voices, what’s happening to me isn’t a _mental_ thing. It’s more like a need.” His face twisted and he clawed fingers above his stomach. “It’s something I can feel right here, in the pit of my stomach. It feels the same way it would if you were starving and haven't eaten in days. That’s why I asked you to make that promise to me. I’m terrified one day I’m going to be blinded by this driving force that’s trying to get me to hurt or kill the people I love and I don’t want to face that.”

“Shit.” You breathed out as you leaned back heavy against the cement brick wall. “And your nightmares? Are they still getting worse?”

“Yeah. Yeah, they are.” He looked at you with such pain in his eyes that it almost made you tear up, but he tried to hide it with a little smile. “They’re not always about you anymore though.” He tacked on a nervous laugh hoping to ease the sadness on your face.

“Oh?”

“Now it’s everyone. You, Jack, Ana, Jesse, Genji... There’s even been some about those cadets in the commissary that serve us dinner.”

“Oh.” You brought your knees to your chin and curled your arms around your legs. “I’m sorry that’s happening to you, Gabe. You were always there for me after mine. I hope you know I’ll be there in a flash if you ever need me to be.”

“I know. Maybe someday I’ll come to you the same way you used to come to me for your nightmares, but-” He flipped his beanie around in his hands and tugged a loose string. “Until I know I have a handle on myself I don’t want to risk putting you in danger. I don’t trust myself.” He was quiet for a few moments and you heard the heater for the room kick on in the ceiling above. Sometimes these conversations left you feeling nothing but hollow sadness. You wished you could be doing more for him. 

You felt the same way when you picked up the nerve agent Moira created for you. The conversation you held with her was curt and unthankful. You hid the serum she created for you in a protected pocket at the side of your thigh and hoped you would never in your life have to use it against Gabe. She cautioned you that it would immobilize him only for a relatively short period of time. That was all you needed if he ever lost control. If he was immobilized, maybe then you could talk him down, but if you couldn't, well then, he'd be easy to put to rest.  

You spent most days and afternoons working with Captain Amari again. Even though Petras wouldn't allow you to have your own team while you were seeing Morrison, Amari would conveniently 'forget' to show up for some of her strike team practices and you would be in charge of working some of the strike teams into new formations or practicing their skills. She was a sly woman, sharp as a blade and quicker than her shot, and you didn't have the words to tell her how thankful you were for her silent solidarity with maintaining your title and position.    

“Guess who I have with me?” Winston's voice bellowed over a speakerphone one afternoon while you were making plans with Amari in an otherwise empty meeting room a couple of days before you were to leave on your mission to follow Moira. You gave Amari a confused look wondering if any of your people were on base with Winston, but her response was an unsure shrug.

“Who-”

“‘Ello!” Came a shrill female voice on the other end and you were even more confused, mouthing ‘who the hell?’.

“It’s Lena!” Winston's voice was smiling into the phone. “She’s here! She’s out of the chamber! With your help I was able to stabilize her!”

“Winston!” You screamed, starling Amari by accident. “That’s incredible! Hi Lena, how are you feeling?” You were speaking fast unintentionally, some part of you fearing she’d be gone in an instant.

“I’m doing great! Winston says we are visiting to the headquarters soon. I’m excited to meet everyone there, Winston’s had nothing but good things to say about all of you.”  

“It will be nice to finally meet you.” You were pushing the hair from your face in disbelief that you were hearing the voice of the women trapped through time. You'd been getting slow updates from the scientist about her condition and the simulations he'd been running, but nothing seemed concrete enough to bring her out. 

Winston startled rattling off about the specifics of the technology used to help Lena, you sat bright eyed and grinning at the phone nodding your head even though he couldn't see it until Amari was making hand motions at you trying to tell you that you still had work to do and to wrap up the conversation.  

* * *

The morning you were supposed to leave to follow Moira to her genetics conference, you woke to Morrison’s worried face hovering over yours. Your forehead and the back of your neck were covered in cold sweat, you sat up with a gasp and he rubbed one of your arms after clicking on his dim yellow bedside lamp.

“You sounded like you were having a nightmare.” His palm moved to cup your cheek and wipe a tear you didn’t even realize had fallen from the corner of your eye. “Talk to me.” He whispered to you.

“I don’t remember it.” You shook your head and kissed the center of his palm before wiping at your forehead. Genuinely, the last thing you remember was closing your eyes then nothingness until you opened them to his face.

He was sucking in his cheeks, flashes of guilt crossing his expression. Sad eyes trailed down below the sleeve of his SEP shirt hanging loosely on your frame, catching every motion of where flames licked your skin, every deep wound scarred over. He opened his mouth but you gently took his hand.  

“If you’re going to say sorry again I don’t want to hear it. You know I’ve forgiven you.” Even if you were having nightmares, you weren't even sure they'd been only about the mines anymore. His fingers touched the marks at your arm just as gently as he had the first time he did.

“Well then I won’t say it, but you know I am.” He sighed leaning towards you. “I’m always here to listen if you ever want to talk about it.” He whispered as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck.

“I love you.” You nuzzled your face against his hair with a small smile.

Inside you knew you should be worried that you were having a nightmare without a memory of it, but you only had him with you for another few hours before you’d be in the air and trailing Moira- you weren’t going to let something you couldn’t even remember ruin these moments with him.

“Do you have to be up soon?” You slipped your hand under the edge of his shirt and ran your fingers on the soft skin of his sides. Under your touch his body came to life, a low noise in his throat pressed against your skin. His head lifted to check his phone at the bedside.

“Alarms going off in half an hour.” He mumbled and all at once lips were kissing along the side of your neck and over your jaw, teeth lightly nipping at your ear making you giggle against him.  

As he kissed at your neck you climbed into his lap and circled hands at his shoulders. You moved your lips to his. There was always something about the way he tasted in the morning, not morning breath, but just something so uniquely him that made your insides tingle with warmth. There was a smile across his lips as you started grinding, slow and teasing against those damn gray sweatpants of his. He let you take your time, working yourself up until he was slipping his pants down and you were throwing your panties across the bed before returning to his lap.  

He'd never admit it to you, but morning sex was one of Morrison's favorite ways to have you. He was always the most loving, the most gentle with you if he had you then. Dirty talk simmered down to sleepy rambling about how beautiful you were, how much he loved you and how good you felt around him. His encouragements came in the form of sweet murmuring against your skin with half lidded eyes and lazy hands that wandered across every inch of you. He'd smile and close his eyes with head leaned back as you bounced in his lap, riding at your own pace and rolling your body against his while one hand kept your back steady and the other squeezed at your chest. He would moan out your name and praises on how good you were to him, which only encouraged you more.

Your favorite thing was when he would mumble on about fantasies of the future. When he was being gentle with you, almost at his peak, you would hear him happily babbling about waking up to you like this in the mornings when alarms wouldn’t put a timer on his love and he would go on and on about taking you in every room of the farm house, it made you smile even during your twitching highs because there was such love behind every word, a sweetness that surprised you every time.

“I’ll put up a nice tree line against the fence so I can have you on the porch again without-” He was getting lost in his own fantasy of domestic life and you crashed your lips into his again to shut him up, smiling when you drove harder against him forcing out little whines. Your body was shaking and twitching around him and he was panting out just on the verge of spilling over. Fingers fell to your core to help you over before he took his turn and filled you as he groaned low into your kiss.          

His alarm sang as you closed the door behind you to hop into the shower. 

Into a loose bun you threw your still wet hair to the top of your head and swapped out your usual Overwatch combat uniform for a Blackwatch one Gabe managed to sneak you from the uniform department. In the privacy of the bathroom, you wrapped your extra neck armor around you then pulled the uniform shirt over. The shirt looked almost the same, black with a high neckline and sleeves down to your elbows, but the Blackwatch symbol replaced the bright Overwatch one printed across your back and as a small crest above your chest. Normally dark blue combat pants were swapped for heavy black ones which you carefully hid Genji’s blades and Moira's nerve agent in one of the many pockets on your leg. You laced up your combat boots and threw your running shoes in your bag along with unmarked clothes, leaving room for additional ones Gabe wrote on the paper slipped under your door he’d bring for you.

With a long parting kiss and a hugged goodbye to Morrison you were out the door before even he was.

* * *

 

“Ready?” Gabe was waiting for you outside the barracks with his own bag slung at his side.

You nodded to him as the cool light of sunrise was creeping over the buildings, and you walked side by side to the Blackwatch ship bay. To your surprise, you didn't see the normal drop ship that Fio piloted, instead it was a tiny jet with no ground crew. 

“What is this?” You touched the metal siding of the ship that looked like it had recently been painted in a coat of matte black.

“Part of a small fleet of Talon aircraft that Blackwatch confiscated. Worked with some of the engineers to repurpose it as a ‘personal craft’. I’ve been taking it on all my solo ops so the crews don’t have to wait around on me.” He placed his hand next to yours on the ship also staring into the matte black. It looked like his eyes when they'd be overtaken, you wondered if he thought that too. “There’s no Overwatch or Blackwatch technology in this. If we go down, we’re on our own.”

“Perfect for stealth.” You mused as you looked into the door hanging open. “Do you know how to fly it?”

“Well enough.” He grunted back at you.

Hmm. Comforting.

Inside it wasn’t cramped, but it sure wasn’t roomy either. The front had the typical two seater with lights and holograms waiting in standby mode for take off. The back of the ship curved down making the small bathroom uncomfortable to be in, but gave room for a little nook to store weapons just outside of the sliding bathroom door. At the center of the ship where it was at its tallest Gabe was just barely able to move around with space for his head without hitting the metal roof. One wall held a typical Overwatch standard cot, currently folded up and held in place with heavy metal arms. Opposite of that, as he closed the door to the outside world you placed your bag on a plain metal table that was fastened to the floor and chairs on either side that could fold out from the wall.  

“I’ll be in Italy while you're following her. Contact me at the first sign of trouble, I can make it back to you in two hours. Here-” He handed you a small backpack that was waiting near the pilots seat. “There’s your fake ID, burners cards, civilian clothes, everything you’ll need and-” He tossed you a small phone which you caught without looking up from the open backpack pouch. “Nice catch. The only contact on there is me. Moira’s reservations are on there too.”

“Thanks, Gabe.” You scrolled through the schedule of events for the convention hoping something would pop out at you, but nothing immediately did. “So, do you want to share your suspicions?”

“She’s been increasingly secretive about the research she’s been doing, even about the work for Blackwatch that’s officially on the books. A couple weeks ago I saw she’s been hanging onto unmarked blood samples-” Oh, shit. Those were probably yours. You stayed as still as you could hoping not to tip him off about anything you’ve been doing with Moira. “My greatest fear is that she’s trying to make me worse, especially now with all those attempts on Gérard’s life-” He grunted and adjusted something on the dashboard. “We have to be careful about who we trust. I want to make sure she’s working for us, and _only_ us.”   

He took a seat readying the ship for take off and you sat in the seat next to him only partially worried he really didn't know how to fly it. You looked through everything he had for you as he darted into the sun rise.

"Really, Gabe? Is this a pencil skirt?" You asked unamused, pulling it out of the backpack along with other business professional clothes. 

"You need to blend in." He shrugged but he had a stupid smile on his face. 

"I could have done that with pants! If I get into a fight how do you expect me to take them down?" 

"If you're getting into a physical altercation at a convention filled with scientists, I think we have a bigger problem." He gave you a stern commander look. "This is purely recon, I better not hear about any fighting." 

"Understood." You grumbled and shoved everything, including your own clothes you brought, into the backpack.

In a small act of defiance for the skirts you put your feet up on his console and stole his beanie from his head. He growled out in protest, but you brought it down over your head and eyes and leaned back in the chair for a quick nap after flipping him a middle finger and sticking your tongue out. His grumbling turned into a only-slightly-annoyed chuckle and he let you get some sleep. 

You were never much one for sleeping on planes though. After only half an hour and one to many head nods that bolted you awake, you pulled his beanie off your face and lazily put it back on him. He turned to look at you with the lopsided hemline and a look that told you if anyone else had done that they would have lost their hands in the process. You shifted to sit properly in your seat and accidentally nudged something with your feet.  

Beneath the pilots console laid a black box that wasn’t fastened down, but seemed to have a set of heavy duty locks keeping it together. It looked out of place and the more you looked at it, the more suspicious it became. There wasn’t just two padlocks on it, on the side you could also see a keypad- the lid was held on magnetically and only the right code could open it. You guessed it was bulletproof, destroy-proof really, by the way the siding caught the light of the sun flying overhead.

“What the hell is this thing?” You tapped the armor plated toes of your shoes to the siding.

“I don’t think you really want to know.” He turned his head from you and had a sneaky smile across his lips. Normally you would have laughed along with him and guessed he was keeping something stupid in there like stuffed animals or love notes, but when his smirk faced you again his eyes flashed to black.

“What-” You sucked in a hard breath. “Gabe, what’s in there?”

His expression dropped when he looked at you again, his face flushing before he quickly went back to staring out the ship's window and gazing across the dashboard.

“Just stuff for missions. Identities and disguises.” He dropped a hand to your knee and squeezed but his face stayed staring forward, you could see the movement of his endless black eyes but couldn’t tell where his gaze was landing.

You stayed silent, starting straight ahead and trying to swallow the uncomfortable silence down into your gut.

“Are you-” He cleared his throat as he slowly turned to look at you. “Do you have extra armor around your neck?” The fingers at your knee gripped harder, not trying to hurt you, but almost as an unconscious reflex. You stared back at him with wide eyes and opened your mouth to speak but a shuddered breath pushed out instead. He must see the outline of the armor with that heightened vision of his. “Never mind, you don’t have to answer that.” His voice was quieter, realization of why you would have extra armor there dawning on him.

His hand moved back to the console flipping on switches for auto pilot mode and you watched the lump at his throat bob with a hard swallow.

“I trust you Gabe, I do, it’s just-”

“You don’t have to explain. I told you to protect yourself with me. I understand, really.” He understood, but you could still hear the pain in his voice. “Sorry about...” He waved his fingers in front of his eyes and turned in his chair, standing then pacing across the small plane. He was breathing deep, pressurized air from the high altitude probably not helping in any way. You heard him fold out one of the chairs near the table, then through a distorted reflection you could see his leg shaking as he sat with his head between his hands. You stayed watching over the blue sky as the ship darted through fluffy white clouds and cast a tiny shadow high above far apart towns. 

When you were about half an hour out you went back to Gabe who returned to his regular eyes and was sorting through his weapons stock. You placed a hand on his shoulder and let him know you were almost there and he stole himself back to the pilots chair. Knowing it wouldn't be ideal to show up to the event hotel in the Blackwatch uniform, you quietly changed into your unmarked casual clothes and pulled your now dried hair from the bun. 

"Anywhere I can leave my uniform?" You asked him as you zipped up the backpack prepared to disembark as soon as you landed. 

"I'll take care of it, don't worry about it." He called over his shoulder. You left them folded on the table. There was a smile on your lips as you touched the shirt, at some point you started folding your clothes the way Morrison did, he'd have the back facing up so the logo on the back was the first thing you saw.

Gabe let you out a a private airport about an hour from the hotel. He wished you luck, and you wished him the same before you stood back on the tarmac and waved goodbye to him as his matte black ship disappeared back into the skies. 

* * *

  

Business clothes were just the worst. A dark cardigan covered your scars down your wrists, everything was uncomfortable and felt like it was made just to make a work day even worse. But, at least he was right, you blended right in with the scientists and entrepreneurs that were attending the conference. You wandered the floor for not very long, taking in buzzing atmosphere and the excitement between old friends who were meeting again. What you didn’t expect was how easy it was to spot Moira. Towering above the other scientists, she stuck out in the crowd like a bright red balloon floating above the others. Her usual lab coat no longer hanging off her shoulders, instead dressed in her office attire she kept beneath it- a dark button up with a brightly colored tie and stark white dress pants. It wasn’t just her stature that made her stand out, it was the visceral reaction she would get by the others.

She kept her head held high but you side eyed the way others snarled at her or heard the disgusted whispers to each other after they passed by. It seemed even among her circle of scientists she was well known for crossing ethical boundaries. Not too much of a surprise, considering her push from Overwatch, but seeing her peers openly bashing her research and her results as they spoke to her with holier-than-thou voices was not how you thought you’d find her here.

“Immoral.” Spat one geneticist at Moira while they discussed her work.

“At least my tests have had results, that’s more than you can speak for, isn’t it?”

Throughout the weekend of the conference you followed her to multiple talks about topics that were well beyond your understanding, but you sat rows away from her pretending to write things down as the others around you did. To your surprise, she spoke at a panel about the benefits of altering the bodies ability to block pain. At first, you quietly held your face hoping she didn't recognize you in the crowd, but you realized she was too preoccupied as the panel railroaded off topic to her own unethical practices and became an open forum for disassembling her work. 

It seemed _everyone_ knew she performed her tests on either unwilling, or unknowingly unwilling, participants. 

After the panel you followed her down an old carpeted hallway that could have used an update decades ago. She dipped into a small meeting room which you passed by without glancing into, hoping she wouldn't see you through the small window. After passing the door you stuck yourself to the side of the wall, acting casual for any passerbys, pretending as if you were messaging someone on your burner phone. You waited to hear something, see someone go into the room after her, but instead a thin hand shot from the opened door and grabbed your arm dragging you into the room with her.  

“So, anything interesting you’ll be reporting to Gabriel?” She looked annoyed. 

You snapped around to look at her with a sharp inhale and opened your mouth to explain, but had no reasonable explanation.

“I know neither of you trust me, or the work I’m doing, but to follow me all the way here just to see what I'm doing? You should both be ashamed of yourselves.” She was actually snarling at you. You couldn't get the thought of all the other scientists in the room hurling insults her way during the panel. Why is it everyone seems to know she's been experimenting on other people?  

“How many others Moira?” You asked her through gritted teeth. “How many people have you tested the pain blocker for Gabe on at Overwatch?”

“Overwatch? Perhaps a dozen. Most of my tests are carried out with the help of third parties-” 

“What third parties?” You growled as you leaned on the small table near you hard enough to crack the edge.

“I have research partners all across the globe. America, China, India, here in the UK-” 

“You’re a monster.” Your voice was bitter. Bitter like the black coffee on her breath. 

“Am I? I’m the monster who saved your dear commander from spending his life rotting in prison for attempted murder, in case you've forgotten what he did to you.”

“And, what? Did you frame an innocent person for what Gabe did to me?” Your voice was cracking. You’d pushed the thought that something like this could happen so deep that the truth was something you were almost too afraid to hear. In the fleeting moment of silence you watched a small smile spread across her usually stoic face.     

“The cadet who was blamed was already on thin ice with Overwatch. It only took a small nudge in the right direction and one round of my tests to convince him he had done it. It doesn’t take much to reprogram a brain, getting it to stick is the tricky part. Did you truly think someone would take the fall for that with no help?” She stared at you like you were the dumbest person she'd ever seen, like she was speaking to a child and explaining the basics. 

It felt like every part of your body was trying to rip itself apart. Your palms were sweating as you crossed your arms and squeezed them close to your body, your knees were tightening with heightened anxiety.

“Does Gabe know about this?” You asked quietly.

“Know about this?” She actually let out a loud laugh. “My dear, he chose the cadet. He was in the room feeding him the information for what he confessed to. _He_ was the one who ordered me to create a reprogramming drug for Blackwatch, but of course he destroyed it after seeing what it did to you.” She snarled at the final words, disgusted at the idea that Gabe would have a conscious.

You needed to sit down.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know our darling Gabriel is capable of committing _less than moral_ acts.” She scolded as she ripped off the tie from her neck. “He is not as innocent in this as you believe him to be. Gabriel may have told you stay away from my experiments, but he has had no issue with my continued tested on others, it is _only you_ he is protecting.”

“You’re lying to me.” You didn’t want to believe her. You couldn’t believe her.

“If you consider what I’m doing immoral then you must realize Gabriel is just as guilty.”

“He’s not forcing drugs into people.”

“Forcing? Now that’s absolutely laughable.” Her face stayed a serious glare as the first couple buttons of her shirt fluttered open. “I have never forced anything on you. In fact, I’ve taken extra precautions with my testing specifically for you because I understand how emotional you must feel about working with me. Have I ever strapped you down to inject you?”

“No, but-”

“Have I ever blackmailed you?

“No-”

“Have I even once used my position over your head, threatened to write you up, threatened to take away privileges?”

“No. No, Moira you haven't.”  

“Then trust me to do the job Gabriel hired me to do. Trust me that I will find a way to cure him. Even if you do not agree with the methodologies, I am still doing work that is desperately needed if Blackwatch is able to survive past the hardships it has been through these last two years.” She sounded outright annoyed that you would question her. “Now run back to your Blackwatch commander and report that I have done nothing to deserve being tailed across the globe like some kind of common criminal.”  

You shot to your feet, hand shaking as you brought a trilling line on the phone to your ear and rushing out of the room. 

* * *

 

The matte black drop ship door opened with a hiss of air and Gabe’s large form leaned out to greet you just hours after Moira cornered you.

“Didn't expect you to get caught.”

You walked past him and set your pack on the metal table and bit at the corner of your lip as you stared at him leaning against the pilots chair. 

"We're both full of surprises, aren't we?"  

 


	27. What Ifs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visitors from Gibraltar, a mission to Germany, and *someone* was supposed to take you dress shopping.

It was a quiet ride back to base with Gabe. He must have assumed you were ashamed for having been caught, but really you were puttering about the cabin processing the things Moira said to you. He was protecting you, _only_ you. He was protecting family. That’s what Blackwatch does, they protect each other- but the cost to other agents or innocent people sat heavy in your stomach and you chewed on your cuticles staring at the floor of the ship, too deep in thought to notice him crouching down next to you.

“You won’t need to fill out a mission report like you usually do, but I’d like to hear what happened.” Gabe finally asked you once the plane was darting through the sky in auto pilot.

“Moira spotted me after a panel got out. She was already getting a hard time from her peers and seeing me just made her think she can’t trust anyone, including us.” You thought for a moment about bringing up the things she said, about questioning him, but you’d keep that information locked away in your chest for now. “I don’t think she’s working for anyone else, but I do think she’s working on more than she says she is. We need to be careful with her.”

He nodded in agreement and placed your Blackwatch uniform back in front of you on the table, clothes no longer folded the way you left them with the symbol facing up.

“I’ll let you know what our next steps are after I check on a few things. For now, get changed. Don’t want to raise suspicions if you come back dressed like you belong in an cubical.” He wandered back to the pilots chair leaving you to yourself and your thoughts and your deep buried doubts.  

Before disembarking the small plane you glanced one last time at the black box beneath the pilots console.

At some point while you were at the conference it had shifted, padlock now facing out but it was tucked further back into the shadows. He must have caught your eyes lingering on it, as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder and moved to block your view until you finally turned to walk down the small set of steps.   

As you walked back side by side with Gabe to the barracks, bags hanging off your shoulders and conversation fizzled to nothing more than small talk, you heard your name being called from somewhere down the twisty sidewalk. Your head turned in surprise and you found the large form of a gorilla and flashes of blue zipping towards you. Before you knew it arms were wrapped tightly around you and you heard loud squealing from the girl hugging you.

“Winston told me all about you!” She cried and you realized there was something hard against her chest pressing into yours. Gabe's face was completely bewildered as he watched you leaning back and pushing the girl gently away from you.

“Lena?” You asked as you cupped the girl's face to get a good look at her, Winston coming to a running stop behind her. It felt like you were seeing an old friend, her face lit up as she hugged you again and you lifted her in the hug and spun with her out of sheer joy before you could think about it. She was giggling by the time you set her down and proudly displaying the chronal accelerator attached at her front.

"You did great, love!" Her bubbly personality was soaking into yours and making you giddy. You were pushing the hair from your face still in disbelief that she was here, physically, right in front of you.

“I'm excited to bring her skills to HQ!” Winston also greeted you with a big hug. “We'll have her in the training facilities for a while to see how stable her condition is, you're welcome to drop in anytime.” His eyes shifted to Gabe at your side who shifted uncomfortably. “Oh! Commander…” Winston stared at Gabe bearing his teeth for a moment.

“Lena, I’d like you to meet Commander Reyes, he’s one of the heads of the Blackwatch division.” You butted in before Winston would have to admit to forgetting his name. “Gabe, this is Lena, the one I was telling you about from Gibraltar.”  

He grunted out a hello and shook her hand after she saluted at him and you almost laughed at the formal gesture. Winston asked if you wanted to see his temporary lab and you excitedly agreed, waving off to Gabe with a small smile of a goodbye before leaving him behind.

Winston’s temporary lab was just a few doors down from Moira’s and you liked it _much_ better than hers. This one had windows that overlooked a grassy quad where people in lab coats and business attire alike were sat at outdoor benches enjoying their lunches together. His lab was bright, with screens and scanners and messy open drawers of technological equipment you were sure he was tinkering with.

You set your travel bag down near the door and looked through screen after screen of how Winston finally managed to get the accelerator to work. All the while, Lena was propped up on a nearby stool listening in, likely not understanding much of what either of you were talking about, but enjoying the company anyway. During the afternoon he walked through the technological aspects of it, but the conversation kept side tracking to personal stories, yours about Indiana and Morrison, Winston going on about the moon (still leaving you in awe), and Lena telling lively stories about her time in the British air force with tales of close calls and air shows she'd been in. The evening ended with you making plans for lunch to continue talking and you left the lab with a smile on your face, digging around in your bag for your phone to check for any missed messages. 

When you passed by Moira's door you were met with a creeping temptation to sneak in. Her code probably wouldn't be that hard to figure out. You could dig around without her noticing, without anyone noticing and maybe get into that cooled chamber she kept all her samples in. But, the time. Morrison would be heading back to the barracks now and you wanted nothing more than to curl up with him on his couch and watch the news while you ate one of his dinners he'd whip up.       

* * *

 

Things were normal, for a while.

You lead small teams on combat missions, mostly rescues and protections, but they gave your days purpose and you were feeling fulfilled. Winston watched Lena like a hawk, following her just about everywhere, too full of anxiety that the accelerator would fail and she would be lost in time again to leave her alone. Training with Gabe continued, he was able to control the smoke on both arms now, forming and reforming each at will. But, quietly in the week nights you would have whispered arguments in the halls on the way back to the barracks about what the next steps were to deal with Moira. You thought Overwatch should open a full blown investigation, that you should get Morrison involved, but Gabe wanted to handle it internally, wanted it to be handled discreetly. 

Sometimes it was too frustrating to focus on Gabe, to focus on the way he ground his teeth together when his eyes went black and he'd stare at the armor around your neck hidden beneath your uniform shirt. You'd spend your days shadowing Captain Amari around, or attached to Jesse at the hip when you weren't finding time to have lunch with Morrison or working with your newly found friends from Gibraltar.  

Then there was the day Captain Amari had you working across the desk in her office. A strike team member who was recently promoted from cadet to active duty had broken into the archives offices and stolen physical documents of seemingly random agent files and disappeared. The way they broke in and stuffed the papers in an obvious backpack was frantic, unhinged, it seemed and you sat in disbelief watching through the security cameras with her.

“He looks like an amateur.” You remarked and paused the video as he entered the secured section of the archives building. “Look at him, he seems strung out and lost. What do you think he was doing?”

“My best guess is he went in there for a particular file and took the others to cover his tracks, but honestly we can’t be sure. Digital records indicate neither the rogue agent or any of the agents from the files he took have been in any sort of disciplinary or offset meetings. Everyone has a clean record, which makes this even stranger.”

“Something about this doesn’t feel right, captain.” You had your own suspicions, but maybe those theories would be better suited for a commander in black. 

“We should run this by Jack, I think we need to put a surveillance detail on any of his known locations." Amari nodded back at you and that was all you needed to be on your feet and to the door. 

You tapped at Morrison's office door with your knuckles until you heard him calling out something muffled. As you slid it open to look at him he held a finger to his lips, you and Amari quietly shuffled in and waited, leaning against the walls as Petras’s voice filled the office.

“You want to know why the public isn’t siding with us anymore Jack? It all started with those fucking pictures because you couldn’t keep your sex life to yourself. Suddenly our poster boy has loose morals and fucks his agents in public and now all of Overwatch is completely incapable of-”

“That’s completely unfair director, and you know it. Omnic resistance has been back on the rise and we both know Overwatch has been overstepping in-”

“That little girlfriend of yours really is a bad influence on you. There’s no pussy in that world that's great enough justifying the kind of sloppy work you’ve been doing since she’s been-”

“Don’t ever talk about her like that.” Jack’s voice was low and face turning a deep red. You shook your head in annoyance, this wasn't the first time you've heard Petras say something along those lines, this time it was actually pretty tame. 

“She’s making you soft Jack, making you confused on your duties as a commander.”

“Director Petras, if you are so concerned about her work ethic and her influence why not direct your concerns to her?” Amari chimed in with an unamused tone. The room went silent, the directors usually booming suddenly having nothing to say.

“Who was that?” His voice was smaller this time.

“Captain Ana Amari, director. I must say, I’m finding the way you’re speaking about one of my teammates to be incredibly disrespectful. You should learn to watch your mouth.” She was leaning against Morrison’s desk above the phone. “Now, if you don’t mind, the Strike Commander and I need to discuss an urgent matter.”

The seconds on the phone ticked away before all at once the line was disconnected without so much as a salutations and Morrison sunk into his chair with a laughing smirk across his face. 

"Oh Captain Amari, what would I ever do without you?" He reached out for her in a dramatic fashion.

"I don't understand why you're not pushier with him, Jack." 

"He's threatened to permanently station us apart." You chimed in, joining Morrison at his side and his arm loosely hugged at your hip as you wrapped your hand around his shoulder. "The only problem is he needs an actual reason to, so if he talks back too much there's a very real chance he might be labeled as insubordinate and be working out of the Colorado base."   

With a sigh and a disapproving head shake, Amari turned the conversation to the rouge agent and changed the discussion to how Morrison wanted it to be handled, resulting in a plan that took a few hours to put together, but still just felt a little off to you. 

“Jack are you absolutely sure about this?” Captain Amari had her hands on her hips as she looked at the agent files in front of her. Just four people on a mission to recover Overwatch files from a rogue agent was risky- sending in you, Amari, Genji and Wilhelm as the recovery team was even riskier.    

“I have complete faith in all of you.” He had his arms cross over his chest, face staring at the screen in front of him displaying the rouge agents information. “There has to be reason they took those agent files. Once their home has been infiltrated we’ll have Genji recover any paper documents, Reinhardt will cover while you check if they got any digital copies.” Morrison was turned to you which made you nod back, but still, something was eating away at you.

“Wilhelm and Genji aren’t exactly stealthy guys. Even if we go in plain clothes, we’re bound to draw attention just because of them. The German government is already taking the same route as England, Morrison, if we go and get caught we’re risking an international incident.” You were leaned forward in your chair. Politics were never your strong suit, but there was no way to avoid the slowly growing resentment towards Overwatch that was creeping up in the public eye.

Morrison turned to his screens again, shifting through the rouge agent’s file with backgrounds of news articles open in the back. It felt like every new negative article added another gray to his head.

“Make sure you're only moving at night. During the day I want surveillance by camera only. We don't want them to be tipped off we're tailing if they've gone home. If there's no movement after a few days, I want you all in and tearing that place apart." He brought fingers to his chin as he looked through German hotels. "We should probably find you a place that's not too far, but we shouldn't be too close so it's not suspicious."   

"Are you kidding me Jack?" Amari asked with a laugh. "Reinhardt's home is not too far away and he both know he's been dying to having more people over to listen to his old stories again." She looked to you with sly eyes.

"Pass it by him, if he's okay, so am I." He shrugged back, probably not complaining about having to spend money on an expensive hotel in the touristy part of Germany at the last minute.  

* * *

 

Strike at night- that’s what was decided. Amari would cover you and Genji from the roof of the home across the street, Wilhelm would cover the door and talk to anyone who came sniffing around, you all decided it would be much less suspicious if locals could speak to someone in their native tongue rather than foreigners sneaking around a housing complex and pretending to ask for directions if anyone got caught. 

It didn’t take long for you to setup the hidden live feeds of the agent’s home. Using that surveillance would be easy, and could be done from Wilhelm’s home just a few miles away from the city center. As soon as there was confirmed movement, the team would strike in, but until then, you waited.

At the little home off a dirt turn out Wilhelm handed you the old fashioned phone that still had a chord and attached to the wall of his kitchen citing the Strike Commander was on the end and said he needed to speak with you. 

“Hey handsome.” You smiled into the phone.

“Hey, you doing okay out there? I know Reinhardt can be a little overwhelming at times.” He sounded almost embarrassed. He'd told you plenty of cautionary tales about Wilhelm going on and on for hours, but so far you hadn't seen the brunt force of that yet. 

“I’ll be just fine. Think you can hold down the base until we get back?”

“Without you and Ana here everything’s going to fall apart, it will be a miracle if the base doesn’t become a war torn wasteland by tomorrow.” His voice was a dramatic woe-is-me tone that made you giggle and turn your back to the small group in Wilhelm's kitchen. He sighed then made a surprised noise. “I almost forgot, I have a message for you.”

“Oh?” You questioned as it sounded like he fumbled through papers.

“Jesse wants to take you dress shopping when you get back from this mission for the charity event. I think he said he’s currently doing something or other at the weapons facility in Mexico but that he should be back a day after you are and that’s the only time when your missions for the next month won’t overlap.”

“He is such a worrywart!” You laughed. “I make one joke about wearing a suit to that event and he’s suddenly concerned that I don’t want to actually dress up for it.”

“He somehow also managed to convince Gabe that he should be his plus one, so, look forward to that." He laughed and you were sure he was picturing Jesse showing up at the charity event dressed in full cowboy garb. 

* * *

In the morning, Genji sat with you in the comfort of a large windowsill facing a grassy yard that led into a darkened forest. Wilhelm’s house reminded you more of a storybook than a military lieutenant’s home, it was cozy and quiet with faded paint on wood beams and intricate iron in the windows. Wilhelm sat backwards on a quaint little wooden chair in his kitchen as Amari was bandaging his side.

"Lost a fight to a tree." He joked when he came back in covered in bark and dropping a chopping ax and splintered logs at the door. With his shirt off you were faced with the scars of his time in the omnic war, but he had a smile on his face and was listening to Amari murmur something to him that pinked his cheeks.

Once she was done circling his side in gauze you pretended to check things on the security monitor, but you kept glancing at them. She was combing her fingers through his long blond hair, gathering it at his back and loosely braiding it behind him. You felt like a peeping tom, like you were spying on something almost more intimate than sex from the way they spoke to each other and the way she leaned her cheek against the top of his head when she was done with his hair.

“They remind me of my own parents.” You heard Genji say across from you, apparently having been staring at them as well.

“They’re sweet together. I never get to see either of them like this.” You set the screen down and dug your nails into cuticles as you turned to face Genji instead. “Were your parents nice?”

“To each other, yes.” His face plate hissed off and he leaned against the glass of the window. “They were not good parents, but they loved each other very much.”

“Loved?” You asked before you could stop yourself.

“My father is no longer alive.”

“Shit, Genji. I’m sorry.”

“Do not be. He was the one who wanted to harden my brother for a life in our clan. He was the one who ordered my brother to kill me.” His voice was distant, tinges of pain somewhere deep. You pushed out a shaky breath. “My mother tried to stop him.” He whispered. Your heart pounded in your chest as you made your own assumptions. He turned his face back to Amari and Wilhelm. “But that’s how they treated each other. We would find our mother patching him up often.” There was such a sadness in his eyes. He stopped himself and brought a fist to rest against his chin. “Sorry. You probably do not want to hear about my family life.”

“I’ll listen to whatever you want to talk about.” You offered him a small smile as you nudged him with your feet. He stayed quiet in thought for a moment as he stared at Amari and Wilhelm.

“I think I should pick up chocolates for Angela while I’m here.” He finally responded.

“Well look at you, _how very romantic_.” You cooed at him and watched as his cheeks burned with embarrassment. With a little laugh you turned back to the window. “It’s nice to see you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Happy. I can see she makes you happy.” You were gently swaying his leg between your knees and he almost put his face plate back on to hide but he dropped it back to the sill instead and sucked in his lips trying to power through the blushing cheeks. “I think switching to the strike team was a good move for you, Genji.”

“We’re happy to have you on the team.” Amari appeared next to him and placed a hand on Genji’s shoulder. “Both of you.” It was nice to see her smile.   

The time you spent at the Wilhelm residence with your small team was one you treasured close to you, one that would eventually bring you great comfort on hard nights alone. In a bizarre way, for the weekend you were there, it felt almost like a little happy family. During that time Wilhelm became Reinhardt, Amari became Ana, Genji grew just a little more open to you. There were quiet mornings when the sun would be barely shining through low hanging clouds, through the dense forest that backed up to Reinhardt’s home and you’d sit in the windowsill with Genji listening to him talk about the places he missed in Japan and how the clouds reminded him of mist back home while you each sipped tea Ana made.

Ana would tell you stories about raising her daughter, stories about Jesse babysitting her while she lived on base during summers and winter school breaks. She laughed and reminisced about her time in Egypt as Reinhardt cooked hearty German food and smothered Ana’s blushing face in kisses when he thought you and Genji were watching the live feed of the rouge agent’s home. You and Genji would lean in listening to Reinhardt’s stories about the omnic war, tales of crusaders and fights that sounded more like medieval times, rather than just years ago. He’d rattle off detail that made your heart pound and tell you stories of death and woe that made you grip Genji’s hand just to stop yourself from crying. All the while, Ana would sit to the side and smile, slyly leaning down once Reinhardt briefly left the room.   

“He’s known to exaggerate some of his stories.” She told you with a laugh.

You stayed there as long as you could. The rouge agent never returned to their home, then on the final night before you flew back the HQ, the four of you infiltrated the home and, to your frustration, found absolutely nothing of use. No computers, no phones, no Overwatch documentation, absolutely nothing. With a splitting headache and folded arms, you rested against Genji's shoulder on the flight home, not quite awake but not quite asleep either. He was being gentle with you, knowing you were upset about not finding anything there, he told you old stories from his childhood, stories about brothers and dragons and you tried to listen but all you could think about were the what ifs. 

What if the rouge agent was part of Talon?

What if those files were people Moira experimented on?

What if Gabe ordered him to do it? 

What if. What if. What if.  

* * *

 

The day after you got back you were supposed to meet Jesse at 3 pm on the dot to pick out a dress for the upcoming charity event. You were practically falling asleep after waiting so long in the cold of the underground parking garage for so long. Jesse was already 25 minutes late when you checked your phone, finally annoyed with waiting you typed out a message saying you were going to ignore him for the rest of his short life if he wasn’t there to meet you in five minutes.

After no response for the next few minutes you rolled your eyes and shoved your phone back in your pocket readying to just leave on your own, but stopping when you heard heavy steps rushing down the stairs and someone bursting through the emergency door.

“Jesse said you needed help, are you okay?” Gabe panted out as he ran towards you and eyes scanned to see if you were injured. His steps slowed to a halt until he was right in front of you and you were staring back at him in total confusion. “Wh-” He was catching his breath from running down flights and flights of stairs. “Why did he tell me you needed help? You don’t look hurt?”

“That little shit.” You scolded. “He was supposed to help me with dress shopping with me today for the charity thing.” You saw his face drop in annoyed realization that Jesse had tricked him into running to you. “Sorry about him. I’ll kick his ass when I see him next. I’m okay Gabe. I guess I’ll just go on my own, you should get back to work-” You turned towards the cars but you felt him touch your arm to stop you.

“I’ve seen the outfits you put together on your missions...” He was grimacing and _wow_ that’s embarrassing that the man who wore the same black beanie every day of his life was insinuating that you had a bad fashion sense.

“Well-” You tried to shrug it off but your cheeks were burning. “I’m not going to say no to you tagging along.” It wasn’t Jesse, but the company and a second opinion would still be nice.

He climbed into the car with you, shooting off messages on his phone as you rode into the city center. Luckily he wasn’t wearing his armor with the Overwatch or Blackwatch symbols on them and you were dressed in plain unmarked clothes, you hoped neither of you would be recognized with the rising tensions between Overwatch and the public.

“Gabe?” You asked after the silence of the car ate away at your soul. He turned to question you but you spoke again before he could even open his mouth. “I’m only doing this so I can rub it in Petras’s face that Morrison and I are together. I’ll try on two, maybe three dresses, max. If we don’t find one I like, I’m giving up and wearing a suit instead.” You were scolding him as if it was his fault you were being put in a dress, he threw his hands in the air and shook his head in reluctant agreement.

At the store you wandered aimlessly through the racks. Gabe followed a few steps behind stopping to glance at a few hanging, or pulling the skirt of one out and gesturing towards it with vaguely positive noises but you'd make a disgusted face and shake your head.

By the time you were there for almost an hour and hadn’t even picked out one he was getting visibly annoyed, glaring at anyone who came near either of you and looming over the racks with groans when you walked through the same small isle for the fifth time.

“That’s it!” He finally growled out and grabbed your shoulder. “I can’t do this anymore. Go wait by the fitting room. I’m choosing some for you.” He looked _done_. Like he was about to write you up or make you run laps in the rain again done. 

You opened your mouth to protest but he shut you down with a stern commander’s look and a shake of his head. Rigidly, you set out to the benches waiting to the side of the fitting room and watched as sales associates roamed the floor with eyebrows raised at Gabe while he gathered gowns in his arms. When he came back you were nervously fidgeting in your seat.

“If I hear even one complaint about any of them we’re buying one at random and leaving.” He warned. You nodded in agreement but your cheeks burned red from the sheer embarrassment of a grown man picking out a formal gown for you.

The first one was surprisingly out of character for what you’d thought he might choose. A light pink almost dusty rose color it was strapless with a long pleating skirt and little crystals sewn in sparkling down from the neckline to the waist.

Next was a blue one that looked almost the same color as Morrison’s commander’s jacket. The silk of that one shined against the department store lights above and as you moved the skirt you saw each side opened to a high slit on both thighs, with dropped shoulders that dress was a clear contender for the ‘fuck you I do what I want’ look you wanted Petras to see you in.

The last was a black one, soft and flowing with a plunging deep V neck line meeting at the high waist and long sleeves buttoning at your wrists. The black dress also had an opening on the skirt, although just one on the right leg and this one landing almost at the edge of your hip- much higher than the openings on the blue dress.

With a dramatic sigh you pulled yourself into the black one and had your first honest look at the formal wear on your body. You twisted back and forth as you buttoned the ends of the sleeves around your wrists, staring at the tight bun your hair that was set with military precision. You uncurled the hair tie and shook your head wildly to see what it looked like down, ending up even more unsure.

“You better not make fun of me.” You exited the dressing room and the look on his face said it all. “Gabe, you’re blushing!” He looked like he was seeing something he wasn't supposed to, cheeks burning with pink and hands trying to hide it. 

“It’s strange to see you like this!” He tried to play it off but you were actually almost relieved at his reaction, a deep feeling in you fearing that someone would see you in such flowing fancy clothes and immediately think you were just an impostor. He stood and circled you as you fluffed out the skirt. “It’s beautiful.” He breathed out.       

“I still have two other dresses.” You reminded him. He stopped a nervous laugh from bubbling out as he sat back down and covered his mouth.

“You know I'm partial to seeing you in black.” There was a smile on his voice. You shot him a sly look over your shoulder as you marched back into the fitting room. After you called him out for the blushing, you guessed you could let him get away with an obvious flirt- this time.

You appeared before him again in the pink dress, he was clearly less effected and only holding back a little excitement. You however, were less than amused and struggled your way back into the fitting room under the awkward to move in skirt.

Then you pulled the blue one over you and were immediately overcome with a stupid grin. Maybe it was the commander jacket color, or the feeling of the smooth silk that draped over your skin, or even the openings that landed on the curves of your thighs if you pushed your legs forward, but something about the dress made you feel confident. It made you feel _dangerous_.   

This time you left the fitting room quietly, leaning against the archway looking to the sitting area Gabe was and waiting for him to look up from his phone as he hurried to type out a message. You crossed your arms and cleared your throat causing him to snap up to you, and you knew immediately this was absolutely the dress you were choosing, just from the way his face fell. His mouth hung open as he let a string of Spanish slip under his breath.

“If you’re trying to send a message to Petras, that’ll do it.” He laughed to himself and pulled off his beanie to run a hand through his hair. “Jesse’s been messaging me wondering what you’ve picked.”

“Tell him I got a suit.” You joked as you turned to a large mirror. “Think Jack will like this one?” Behind you Gabe stood and walked to you admiring the dress. In the mirror all you saw was him smiling, trying to hold it back with a bit lip. His hands fell to the sides of your shoulders and thumbs rubbed small circles making you smile back at him.   

“I think you look incredible. Jack’s going to love it.”

Your heart felt like it was melting in your chest. He looked so happy. Seeing him smile like this after long months of painful stares and endless black eyes was worth the boredom of walking around the store for an hour and the embarrassment of not choosing your own clothes. His hands curled into your hair sending a warm shiver up your spine and he gathered it up to the back of your skull. Dark eyes stared in question for a moment before ultimately deciding to drop it down again.  

“Up or down?” You asked him, trying to catch his expression.

“Down, definitely down.”

“Thanks for the help Gabe. I know you probably had other stuff you needed to do today, but I appreciate you playing dress up with me. I owe you a dance for it.” You placed a hand over his as it rested on your shoulders.

“We’re not done yet. We still need to get shoes that aren’t combat boots and a tie for Jack otherwise I _know_ he’ll wear something that doesn’t match you.”  

You were quick to change back into your incognito clothes. Gabe held the gown for you as you picked out stark white shoes with tall block heels that you knew you’d be taking off before the night was over, but thought they looked cute enough. He tried to convince you to get accessories but you ended up staring at the wall overwhelmed and declining everything he suggested citing that it was too ugly. After a whispered heated argument about what matches the dress and what doesn't, you settled on a thin white hand purse (Gabe insisted), but he stopped just before heading towards the men's section, looking at the necklaces.

“Would this make you uncomfortable?” His fingertips touched a bright white choker on the edge of one of the accessory stands. You stared at it for a moment wondering if it would or not. It was thin, probably about the thickness of the straps on the shoes you had tucked in the box under your arm, so it wouldn’t be too intrusive. Considering the armor you normally kept around your neck under your uniform, you thought maybe this wouldn’t be that bad.

“It’d be perfect.” You tried to smile at him, but it hurt your heart that he was asking in the first place. You picked it from the stand and tucked it with your other things before heading to the men’s section.

You left Gabe to choose Morrison’s tie, trusting his judgement. After a little searching, and a lot of mms and ahhs from him, he found one that matched almost exactly to your dress. It was a solid color of commander blue and just as silky as yours. It was perfect.

“Make sure he wears a white shirt and the black suit otherwise he’ll look like an idiot.” Gabe reminded you as the cashier ran all the items through. “If he tries to wear the navy suit, hide it.” He was making you laugh, unintentionally you think, by how well he knew Morrison and knew that without help he too would dress in a fashion sense that would offend Gabe to the core.

In the car your gown laid in the back seat covered in a black dress bag. The sun had set sometime while you were shopping and it felt like it was getting late. While you and Gabe talked about Morrison’s past fashion mistakes attending formal events your phone lit up the console.

“Speak of the devil.” Gabe said staring at the picture you had of him as the contact, still the scruffy picture of him from Indiana with little red devil horns drawn on. You rolled your eyes with a laugh as you answered.

“Hey.” You spoke to the speakers. “I have Gabe with me.”

“Well then, hey you two.” He sounded tired, like he’d been talking all day and needed sleep. “I think it’s going to be a late one here for me again. They’re having the press reps come back to give another statement about what’s going on in London.”  

“They must think things are going really bad, don’t they?” You asked, giving Gabe a concerned look.

“Seems like it. What are you both up to?”

“I filled in for Jesse and took her dress shopping, we’re just heading back to base now if you need some help.” Gabe leaned forward hoping he'd agree, he'd been concerned about the buzz from the UK ever since your recent trip. Morrison’s chuckling voice buzzed through the speakers.

“I was actually scared Jesse was going to convince her to wear a cowboy hat or something ridiculous.” The three of you laughed at the mental image. “And don't worry about it, I've got a handle on everything here. But hey, if you’re already off base then why don’t the both of you take a break? Go get dinner somewhere other than the commissary.”

“What will you have for dinner?” Genuine concern crossed your voice, commissary would probably be closed by the time he was done that night and he needed to order more groceries if he planned to cook anything in that tiny kitchen of his.

“Those press junkets always have buffets of food, I’ll be just fine. Go. Have a nice night for me and I’ll live vicariously through you when you tell me all about it later.” You smiled out the window, watching the painted lines on the road fly by under the self driving car. 

“I'll be sure Gabe get's me home before midnight." You joked and Gabe rolled his eyes with a smile also on his face. "Love you Jack, I’ll see you later.”

“Love you, too.” His voice was bright.

“What, no ‘I love you’ for me?” Gabe pretended to be hurt. 

“Love you too, Gabey.” Morrison laughed out at him.  

“Love you Jacky.” Gabe responded in a semi mocking tone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stayed turned for our next episode which is alternately titled: How Bad Can Reader And Jesse Fuck Up In London? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	28. Null Sector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a totally normal, definitely not secretly Blackwatch sanctioned, mission to London, that definitely totally wouldn't piss off Morrison if you happened to be caught there.

You hid your dress away in your room wanting to surprise Morrison on the night of the event. Before you left to head up to his room, you stared into yours, at your empty bed that you used to curl in and stare out the window next to it on sleepless nights. Things changed so quickly, sometimes it made your heart race just at the thought of how difficult life used to be when you’d fight with him.

You slipped into his room with a smile on your face, excited for the event and to tell him all about your dinner with Gabe where you ended up just talking for way too long. His room was sitting in darkness, no sign of his commander’s jacket on the wall, no boots by the door. You heeled off your own shoes and puttered about, running a small load of laundry, remaking the bed with fresh sheets, adding things he needed to his grocery list.

By almost midnight he still wasn’t back and you decided to shower and head to bed, you’d have to be up for sparring in the morning and didn’t want to be up too late. The bathroom mirror was fogged and the room filling with steam when you felt a cold chill in the air. You leaned out of the glass shower door seeing the streak of dark blue topped with blond on the other side.

You greeted him with a sly smile and side eyed the way he was questioning you with the look on his face as he pulled off his clothes.

“We both know you can barely fit in here on your own.” You warned. Whenever he joined in the shower you were always left without a drop of water, shivering and staring at his back as he covered himself in standard issue soap.

“That won’t be a problem if I pin you up against the wall.” He practically purred out, stepping in with you and immediately lifting you to wrap your legs around him. He brought you in to a needy kiss, pressing your back against the wall furthest away from the water and grinding between your legs.   

“Long day?” You breathed out as his mouth moved over your jaw.

“Very.” His cock was growing hard against you and you gripped fingers into the back of his hair. “How’d your date with Gabe go?” He was laughing and that made you giggle too.

“I’m excited to show you the dress, he thinks you’ll love it.” His mouth found the soft spot on your neck and sucked as he rocked against your slit. “We went and got kabops and talked about his high school days. It was nice.”

“Sounds like a better night than mine.” His lips returned to yours with another hard kiss, this time slowly pushing his tip in, hips sinking into with a low moan. You smiled as you held onto him, your shins feeling the running water against them at his back bouncing with each of his movements.

He held you so effortlessly, even in a slippery shower. Your back pressed to the tile and hands wandering your body, even with every groan and twitch of pleasure you felt safe with him. As he built you up, he dropped a hand to your chest, fingers playing and twisting at your nipple making your back arch against him and little whines escape your lips. He rolled against you over and over again until your legs were twitching, coil in you on the verge of release.

With a smirk on his lips he pulled from you, leaving you a panting needy mess and he dropped your feet to the ground. His large hands grabbed your hips, twisting you around so your chest and cheek pressed against the tile instead and he drove into you from behind. You let out a loud moan that echoed against the shower, above the sound of the running water and his fingers dipped to the front of you to tease at your clit while he drove you over the edge.

His other hand curled into wet hair at the back of your head, pouding at you until he too was pulsing and breathing out admirations when he came inside you. Your walls twitched against him as he slowly dragged himself out, a flood of him following out and spilling down the backs of your thighs. He leaned over you again, kissing the back of your neck and carefully rubbing the now cold water from the shower against your skin to clean you up.

“I love you, so much.” He whispered to you when you hummed against the wall as he took care of you. “Nothing will ever change that.” He continued and you giggled as his lips tickled the skin on your neck.

“I love you too, Jack.” You mumbled out, playfully shaking your hips back towards him.

* * *

 

Days later you found yourself on the Blackwatch drop shop with several agents all on their ways to special missions. You stayed quiet for most of the ride, tucking yourself at Jesse’s side and trying to ignore a bubbling guilty feeling in your stomach. Once the other Blackwatch agents had already been dropped at their locations, the ship was empty leaving you and Jesse alone as Morrison sternly spoke to you over speakerphone so Jesse could listen in.

“I promise, I’m just going on recon, I’ll be nowhere near London.” You sighed.

“You better be. I don’t want you anywhere near that horror show, neither Overwatch or Blackwatch have any business there after the threats from the prime minister.” He had his commander voice on.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded even though he couldn’t see you.

“I mean it. It’s a war zone out there. They’re estimating the death toll is already in the hundreds. The situation in the city is volatile and unprecedented and I _know_ Gabe wanted to send agents in. I’m hoping you’ll follow my orders: as an Overwatch agent you are not allowed to step foot in that city.”

“I understand, Morrison.” You were starting to get annoyed. A long puff of air hit the receiver on the other end of the call.  

“Okay. Good luck on your mission, I’ll see you when you get back. Be safe.”

“You too, commander.”

With that your phone disconnected and you shoved it, along with your travel bag, in a temporary storage locker near Fio’s pilot station.

“You hear all that Gabe?” Jesse asked into his own phone.  

“Sure did.” His gruff voice responded. “Leave your phones on board, if he tracks them I’ll have Fio drop them off on location. Don’t turn on your body cameras at any time, I don't want there to be any chance of officials catching wind we’re there. Leave no evidence, understood?”

“Yes, sir.” You both replied. You checked your rile one last time, making sure your extra ammo was still tucked away in the pockets of the Blackwatch uniform you changed into as soon as you were on the ship. You were just going with him to check on the situation, in and out, should be easy- right?

“T-Minus five minutes to landing. Welcome to London, agents.” Fio turned over her shoulder giving you both a thumbs up.    

Sneaking around was easy enough. Omnic troopers were nothing, if not loud, so getting around without being seen wasn’t difficult. Jesse and you followed the path of destruction through the city, trailing destroyed buildings and piles of ripped apart omnics mixing with bullet riddled bodies of military members who couldn’t be recovered from firefights. One of you would rest while the other kept a watchful eye, holded up in abandoned homes and away from windows should the omnics blast your way.

Then you followed the trail all the way to the power plant. It was a horrible sight. Most hostages were cowering in a corner on the far end of the room with roaming troopers corralling them in place. Three bodies laid near the door, two human and one omnic mashed in a mess of blood and black fluid leaking through onto grimey tile below. Maybe just over a hundred people were huddled in small groups together, mouths held tightly shut and eyes wide as they looked at each other with the fear of death written across their faces. The troopers walked carelessly through the rows of hostages, reminding them to stay quiet, to stay compliant, reminding them that their one and only warning that they would kill everyone there was the three bodies near the door.

“It’s bad, commander. Worse than we thought.” Jesse said into his ear piece as you both looked down through ceiling rafters.

“They’ve already killed three. It looks there’s troopers, eradicators, bastions, and shit Gabe, there’s even OR14s-” You chimed in. “I’ve never seen them look like this before, they look militarized. It looks like they’ve got a bomb on the power plant core, and I may not know much about explosives, but that looks like it could blow the whole city miles high. There’s no way the government can let this sit any longer, we need to get agents here soon or we’re looking at a massacre in the thousands.”

“Get out of the building and wait for further instruction. I’m going to see what Jack has to say about this. Reyes out.”

With nods to each other you crept your way back out and into the ruined streets of the city, hiding in unpatrolled alleyways until you heard sound clicking back on in your ear pieces after a couple hours. Staring at each other you frowned, trying to listen in on what sounded like a distant conversation between Gabe and Morrison. You held a finger to Jesse, silently telling him to stop moving so you could focus on what was being said.

“Shit. Jesse, they're talking about sending in cameras-” You whispered before a familiar voice cut you off.

“Agent McCree, do you copy?” Morrison's voice boomed over both of your ear pieces. You slapped a hard over your mouth to stay quiet.

“Loud 'n clear, sir.”

“It seems our requests that you turn on your body camera have gone ignored. Please give us your exact location so we can lock on you and discuss your status."

He reluctantly told him the area you were in and you both waited, holding your breath until Jesse pushed you out of the way as one of the drones dropped down in front of him.

“Evenin’ commander.” He tipped his hat to the drone.

“Interesting finding you in the middle of a place like this. Anyone else with you that I should know about?” His voice echoed onto empty streets and off abandoned buildings. You chewed at the side of your lip, he was fishing to know if _you_ were with Jesse.

“Just me, myself, and I, sir. Commander Reyes can attest to where everyone else is.”

“Funny. He just told me you were in the US a few hours ago. Care to change your answer?” He already sounded upset.  

“I’m alone, scouts honor.” Like a child, he held one hand up and placed the other behind his back crossing his fingers and you slapped your palm to your face out of sight, shaking your head.

“What’s the status there, agent?” Morrison growled out.

“Well, from what I’ve seen, Null Sector is holdin’ Mondatta-” You heard him rattling off info about the hostage situation and kept low to the ground scanning for any signs of movement.

Jesse’s voice just sounded like noise in the background as you laser focused on everything around you. You were trying to stealthily motion to him that more omnics were coming and he ended the conversation with his gun rattling off against a trooper omnic. The firefight got scary, close calls with omnics as you ran with Jesse to the safety of an abandoned stack of apartments to wait to hear from Gabe. You couldn't make it far, couldn't be at the ground level with the windows blown out so you darted up the stairs and up to the forth floor where it was dark and quiet and there was no way for any omnics to sneak up on you even if they tried. 

You felt like you'd waited forever to hear Gabe on the earpiece again and once you heard it click on you finally released a breath you didn't realize had been stuck in your chest. 

"He's sending in a strike team." 

"A little warnin' about the cameras would have been nice!" Jesse growled at your side, eyes peering out the windows. 

"I tried! Left my mic open so you could hear him talking about it but I couldn't exactly tell him to hold on so I could warn my field agents they're about to get caught for being somewhere they're not supposed to." You could just picture him hunched over his desk pinching the bridge of his nose right now. "If he asks, you're just on vacation. Anyways, sit tight, the strike team should be there in less than an hour now. They're going to clear the remaining omnics and breech the power plant to protect the hostages. I want you both to stay safe and out of sight, do not engage, am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." You dropped to the ground, happy to not be shot at and let the other agents who haven't been sifting through the dirt and ruined buildings for days take care of it from here.

* * *

“Is that Lena?” You hissed into your ear piece as you peered out the window towards brick streets. You could see her blue streaks from the accelerator trailing behind her, accompanied by three other members of the small strike team running full speed far from you.  

“I think so? She’s going by her field name, Tracer.” Gabe's voice sounded distracted. 

“Oh, so Overwatch get’s code names but we don’t?” Jesse pouted, you couldn’t help rolling your eyes and play hitting him at the comment. “Got it, sorry. Not the right time to be jokin’ around.”

"Will you two shut up? I'm trying to watch their body cams." You wondered if he had that bottle of whiskey taking shots when one of them took an omnic down. You were pretty sure he'd get alcohol poisoning if he did. "Jesus, that place is a disaster. Looks about how most cities did during the omnic war."

That wasn't a good sign. The world didn't need another war, the world didn't need to fall into disrepair like it had then. Overwatch was supposed to bring peace and prevent things like this from happening. You tried to drown out the noise of guns and blasters going off. "They're just about to breech the plant. How are you two holding up?" 

"Better now that we know this is going to be over soon." You sighed.

"They're on the final stretch. Just a little longer." You could just barely make out the sound of the fight in the distance and the shouting over the screen he was watching the battle on. "They're in, standby for support and evac. We have our teams working on disabling the last of the blaster cannons around the city so they can fly in with no resistance."  

You smiled and wiped sweat from your forehead grabbing Jesse's hand and shaking it in the air above your heads in victory.

But, victory was short lived.

Before you could react, the building shook with the force of a massive earthquake, sending you and Jesse flying across the room in a flurry of confusion. Hits from a cannon landed just a couple floors below you and neither of you were fast enough to jump to safety before your world was turned upside down. The blast itself was loud, leaving a ringing in your ears that deafened you for a moment before you heard the breaking and smashing of concrete to the ground below. In your ears the crackly sound of Gabe's voice was screaming for an update, begging to find out what the noise he just heard was. 

With a terrified gasp you opened your eyes to the building settling after the explosion. Your body was shaking, panic creeping up from your stomach to your throat, you tried to focus, tried not to let your past haunt you with the old sound of static deafening in your skull. No, you can't do this here, this can't happen now.

You needed to assess the situation.

You were bleeding from somewhere. Your back, you think, based on the blood running along your spine and creeping around your neck. Above you, your legs were tangled in the thick chords that had been in the floor- pieces of carpet and concrete stuck to flimsy ends and swaying in the air with you. Dust and debris were falling, lit by fogged sunlight spilling in through the hole the blaster cannon broke open on the side of the building.

Worst of all, you were hung upside down holding on to Jesse's left arm for dear life as his body dangled below yours, his other hand with his gun out frantically searching for any omnics. He was heavy, he was so fucking heavy, but you couldn't let go. You don't even remember grabbing him. Eyes trying to focus you knew the floors below you were gone, dropping him would mean falling three stories at least, the shadow of the walls still standing obscured the floor so you could only assume deadly rubble was stacked at the bottom.

After his wide eyes confirmed there was no immediate omnic danger, he slowly holstered his gun back at his hip and strained his neck to look up at you. With a pained grunt he reached up to grip onto you with both arms, relieving some of the pressure on your shoulders that felt like they were getting tighter by the second.  

“Fuck, Jesse. Hold on!” All your blood was rushing to your head as you hung upside down and it was making you dizzy. You could feel the tension in your ankles about to snap. It was hard to hear your own heavy breathing over the sound of your pulse beating in your throat. If you dropped him it was broken legs at best, brain all over the ground at worst. Panic was starting to set in and your grip on him was slipping.

The cables at your legs gave just enough that one leg slipped out, the other left hanging on just by twisted cables at your ankle, you let a scream escape from your lips but you dug your fingers harder into his wrist.

“You need to throw me.” He was pleading, head twisting and turning looking for the closest landing, a half broken floor jutting out and partially crumbled. “It’s too far a drop straight down, we need to swing a bit. Can you do that?” You looked up to your ankle, unsure if it would hold in the twisted cables. With a terrified nod, wanting only to save him, you tried with all your might to start moving. He was helping, swinging his hips with each movement, but your body wasn't cooperating.

“I can’t get enough momentum Jesse.” You cried out to him, apologizes already laced between your words. Your ankle slipped again and you quickly flexed your foot in order to stay where you were at. A whimper of fear left you as your face snapped to him with sickening realization.

Either both of you were falling, or you had to drop him.

“It’s okay sunshine, let me go. I’ve lived through worse.” He had a smile on his lips but couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes. You gave one final screaming swing towards the platform and released him with a squeeze.

“I love you, Jesse.” You choked out as he flew through the air unsure if he could even hear it.

The thud and resounding crack you heard on the landing was a noise you never wanted to remember, it made your stomach flip and it echoed in the hollows of your skull. You watched him almost make the landing, most of his body in relative safety but his left shin hit just a little too low, catching the edge of the platform, smashing against it with a horrific crunching sound of bones breaking.  

He yelped out in pain followed by gasping inhales bouncing off the walls of the falling apart building as he tried to hold his left leg close to him and scrambled away from the edge.

You didn’t have time to watch him and make sure he was okay, the cable at your ankle was loosening quickly.

With all the strength you had left, you forced your body into a sit up and reached for a bundle of cables hanging, grabbing onto it for life and twisting your wrist in them as your foot slipped from its hold. You closed your eyes as you clutched the wrapped cables, taking a steadying breath and body shaking uncontrollably with sweating hands gripping into the plastic tubes. After a moment to center yourself, you let out a pained groan as you lifted yourself up with pain that shot from your shoulders, down your spine and all the way to your toes. You were shaking as you collapsed against the floor above, laying down and letting your exhausted arms rest.

“Gabe, we need medical.” You panted out into your ear piece. You could hear Jesse's low moaning as he tried to speak but couldn't muster the strength. You realized you could no longer move your shoulders and felt searing hot white pain. “I think his leg is broken and I can’t fucking move my arms.” The adrenaline of holding Jesse was keeping you going, but now that you were laying against the dusty broken floor you could feel your bones were out of place at your shoulders and you couldn’t feel anything from your collarbone to the tip of your fingers on either of your arms.

“Evac's on its way, hang tight.” His voice was distorted and distant from the explosion. 

You groaned, unsure if he could hear you are not and stared up at the dirty and destroyed remnants of a hand painted ceiling above you, it must have looked nice once. Your mind was drifting, pain pulsing through your body to the sound of Jesse’s groans below and heart in overdrive from absolute panic.

Voices were shouting, the strike team reaching you after a triumphant defeat of omnics in the main power station. The sound of rumble being moved and Reinhardt swinging hammer against rock sent flurries of fear into your veins as you waited above them.     

“McCree!” You heard in a gasp below you from a familiar Swedish accent. More voices followed hers, hurried shouts getting him help.

“Wait, wait-” He grunted and it echoed up to you. “We got another one, she’s hurt too. Up there.”

Your head was pounding, body shaking and voice caught in your throat. It felt like your whole body was filled with static, the noise spreading from your eardrums down your throat and into your stomach, it made your skin crawl and it made you want to cry. You were trying to focus on your breathing, eyes closed and desperately stopping yourself from slipping into panic.

You were here. You were safe. Jesse was safe. It was just an explosion, Morrison’s prepared you for this. Morrison was going to be pissed. 

* * *

 

Both shoulders were dislocated, is what you were told. You guessed it was from hanging on to Jesse and the only thing keeping you attached to him without dropping being pure adrenaline. The pain from your shoulders had you blacking out after being lifted to the evac ship. The nurses said you screamed when they popped each bone back into place. Your forearms were bruised where Jesse had been holding you, bruises you pulled your strike team sweatshirt sleeves down on so you wouldn’t have to look at them. There was a laceration across your back, one you didn’t even realize you had. Long and thin, luckily the wound wasn’t too deep. You think during the fall one of the cables must have snapped and cut through the unarmored section of your back. Your injuries were minor, at least compared to Jesse’s. Minor enough that you didn’t need to stay in the medical wing with him.

Minor enough that you were sitting in the chair across Morrison’s desk while two men tried to have a conversation that at any moment felt like it was going to blow into a full on shouting match.

“I’m finding it difficult to treat you fairly right now because I told you, very specifically, that I wanted you to _stay away_ from London.” Morrison was leaned against his desk, waving a hand at you. “This isn’t just something can be kissed and made up, you broke my trust of our professional relationship and I can’t let you get away with this just because I love you.” He was pushing his hands through his hair and trying to find the right words as you picked at your fingers in your lap and bit back your feelings.

“She’s not the one to be upset with, Jack. I ordered her to go to the Null Sector.” Gabe placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to silently convey he wasn’t going to let you take the fall for this.

“She doesn’t have to follow your orders- you’re not her damn commander!” He barked back. You couldn’t look up. You wanted to cry. Your body was shaking like it already was. The room fell to silence and you assumed the two men were having a stare off as Gabe’s grip tightened on your shoulder.

“I’m taking you off combat missions. Indefinitely.” Morrison’s voice was low and serious. You turned your face away from him sucking in your bottom lip. “If you get into any more trouble, I’ll be switching you to office duties permanently. Do you understand me?”

“That’s an extreme reaction. Blocking her from missions isn’t going to solve anything.” Gabe was speaking through gritted teeth. He was squeezing too hard on a shoulder that already hurt from being popped back in place and you curled your hands in your lap with a grimace.

“Gabe, you’re hurting me.” You breathed out. His hand jumped from you and you turned to meet his eyes, afraid when you looked up they’d be the endless black they were when he was stressed out and you'd have even more problems. Instead you saw fear as he stared back at you, fear that slowly fell to glossy concern.

“I need you to acknowledge that you understand.” Morrison said leaning towards you, body betraying the angry expression on his face and his hand reaching out to comfort you.

“I understand, sir.” Your voice was soft, eyes fell back to your lap unable to look at him still. When you refused to accept his hand he drew back and buried his face in his palms.

“Can you give us a minute?” He spoke to Gabe, who balled his fist at his side and quickly left the room. “What you did was absolutely unacceptable. Overwatch had already been told to stay away. If I hadn’t made the decision to send in the strike team and things had gone worse, who do you think they would blame if they found yours and McCree’s bodies in the aftermath? Or how about if those omnics caught you in the power plant and decided to activate the bomb right then? You weren’t just putting yourself in danger. You were putting the lives of innocents and the reputation of Overwatch in the crossfire for a situation that was already a powder keg of emotions.”

Biting your lip harder, you were trying not to cry.

“I don’t think you understand how much this hurts me.” His voice broke. “It’s not just that you and McCree lied to me about you being out there, but if I lost you _like that?_ If I had to find out about it because your body came back in a bag- just the thought kills me. If you died because of a mission Gabe sent you on, that I specifically told you I wanted you nowhere near, I would never forgive him, I don’t think I’d ever forgive _you_. I’m not trying to be some dictator of a commander, you know that right? I’m making these decisions because I want you to be safe, because I want a life with you. I told you I needed you to trust my calls, to trust that I am making the right decisions, and this is what you do?” He groaned into his hands, usually he was so prepared with his disciplinary speeches, but this one was different. “I think I need a bit of space while I process this. I’m really, really, upset with you right now, but I don’t want to make any rash decisions while I’m not able to think clearly.”

“I’m sorry, Jack.” Your voice was small.

“See. That’s it. Right there. No one else can speak to me like that and that's exactly why I'm so mixed up about it. I don’t know if I’m being soft on you because of what’s going on between us, or if I’m being too hard because I care too much. I think…” His voice trailed off and he dropped a hard first to his desk. “I think it might be best if you slept in your own room for a while. Just while I get a handle on everything here.”

That got you looking at him. His face looked like he was in pain, muscles at his neck straining as he swallowed hard. You shot to your feet and he stood too, maybe not meaning to, but he held a fist to his stomach and his brows twisted in concern.

“Sir.” Was all you managed to squeak out at him with a tight nod before your throat tightened with silent sobs.

As you turned and raced out the door you heard his steps following you, stopping before they got into the hallway. Gabe was waiting leaned against the wall outside and he pushed himself with urgency as soon as you came flying out around him. He reached for you but you swatted his hand away and crossed your arms tightly at your chest as you rushed out of the building and towards anywhere that wasn’t Morrison’s office.

You went to the sparring room, at first, thinking maybe you needed to work out your emotions in a more productive way, but instead you ended curling against the wall watching one of the strike teams practicing their kicking techniques and all it did was tighten a knot in your stomach. You wandered to the barracks but couldn’t bring yourself to go into the building, not with the thought that you’d be heading to your own room. After a while, you ended up in the medical wing well after the sun had set, well after visiting hours should be over.

Frank was at the head station, lids under his eyes heavy and his usually neatly put together hair just a little more frazzled than usual. Even though you shouldn’t have been there that late he gave you a sad nod and turned the other direction pretending not to see you walking through the hall towards Jesse’s room.

“Hey.” Your voice was little as you peeked in the door. Soft yellow light from a bio emitter glowed near his leg and his head lulled to the side to greet you. Genji was already in a visitors chair, sat sideways facing Jesse and it looked like they were in the middle of a conversation.  

“Oh sunshine, there’s no reason to cry over me.” He reached out to you but grimaced as he lifted his arm. “Look at you, ain’t seen your eyes that red in a long time now.”

“How are you feeling?” You asked through a fake smile.

“Better than you, it seems. What’s wrong sugar?” He shouldn’t be concerned about you. He just dropped from rafters, shattered his shin, and sprained his wrist- he should be focusing on himself. Genji shifted to his feet to give you the visitors chair, patting the backrest as an invitation to sit down which you hesitantly circled around the room to accept.

“Morrison took me off combat.” You finally said quietly after they both stared at you waiting to know what was wrong. You spoke partially hiding your mouth behind a hand and curled your legs to you, hugging knees to your chest as Jesse reached out to hold your hand. “And he…” Jesse tugged at you to stop you from biting at your cuticles. “He wants me to sleep in my own room, for now.”

“Damn.” Jesse squeezed at your fingers. “You know you’re always welcome in my room if you want some company.”

“I don’t think you’re going to be leaving this bed anytime soon, Jess.” You tried to smile at him but you caught a lump in your throat. “Sorry I missed the platform, I feel awful that you got hurt.”

“You saved my life. Ain’t nothin’ to apologize for. Without you I woulda been dead meat. You shoulda seen her Genji, she looked like a regular old superhero hangin' on to me all upside down, got this crazy strength to hold me until she threw me to safety.”  

“I am very happy you are both okay.” He said with a sigh leaning against Jesse’s bed. Jesse nudged you, trying to lighten the mood and smirking through a surge of pain in his leg.   

“We've still got each other, and hey, even if things ain't exactly peachy right now, it can’t really get any worse than this, right?” 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't want to describe too much of Null Sector since I'm assuming many of you already know what it looks like/plays like.  
> Love you all! <3 (ﾉ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧


	29. Powerful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready?

The first few nights back on base Gabe had left for another mission, so you rested in Jesse’s hospital room until you were kicked out by the morning shift who grew more annoyed each time you were allowed to stay after visiting hours. In your own bed after long and uneventful days, you'd tried to sleep and you weren’t dreaming, at least, not dreams that you remembered. Instead you were waking up in cold sweats to dark cloudless skies above your window, gripping your sheets, nauseous with a bubbling sadness creeping in your throat and threatening to squeeze sobs from it. You couldn't do it. You couldn't face trying to sleep in an empty room, something about it was just too unsettling in your core and those nights you tossed and turned unable to get more than a couple hours of rest. 

After he was back from his mission Gabe slid open his door when you knocked, usually sometime after one in the morning, sleep filled endless black eyes would look at you with pity and you would try not to acknowledge them. Your own face would twist in discomfort and shame for feeling like you'd lost your ability to be alone but he’d offer to make you his hot chocolate, an offer you’d decline wanting nothing more than to curl on his couch and just try to sleep. 

A few nights and too many mornings waking up with a stiff neck from being your pillow as he crashed on his couch with you, Gabe made a temporary setup with your bio emitter, a big knit blanket, and a pillow from his bed so you'd be comfortable, reminding you that he was just a few feet away if you needed to wake him up. You slept against the cushion covers he’d sewn to hide the stain from a bottle of whiskey that soaked into it a lifetime ago and tossed and turned over it until sleep overtook you.

It was the weekend when you were stretched out across his couch, blanket balled in your fist covering half your face until the smell of breakfast slowly wafted your way to wake you. Face greasy from sleep and hair a ratty mess you sat up to peer over the backrest at him and into his small kitchen where Gabe was yawning and stretching next to the stove. As his arms rose above his head the edge of his shirt lifted and you eyed a decent sized bruise riddled with little cuts curving over his hip and down into the band of his dark sweatpants, it looked like road rash but he hadn't told you about any accidents he'd been in, you studied the injury with curiosity. He twisted in his stretch and face raised in surprise to see you staring at him, quickly and quietly tugging the edge of his shirt down to cover himself.

“You’re looking better, did you actually get some sleep last night?” Gabe turned back to wheat pancakes sizzling at his stove top.

“A little. Sorry I keep waking you up. I know I need to sleep in my own room like an adult but…” You ran hands over your face and over sleepy eyes.

“It’s okay.” He breathed out. “I don’t mind.”

“Thanks, Gabe.” You shifted on the couch, draping yourself over the backrest to watch as he cooked. There were still so many things you wanted to say, too many questions that you weren’t sure you really wanted to know the answers to about what decisions he had or hadn't made, the things he hadn't told you.  

“We need to change the bandage on your back today. After breakfast?”

You nodded in response and he cleared his kitchen table of his sewing machine inviting you to take a seat.  

“Jack’s hurting still.” His voice was soft and speaking forward to the stove rather than towards you. “Won't talk that much to me either, but he keeps asking me to check on you and make sure you’re okay. Even though he’s pissed off, he can’t help feeling like he still needs to protect you.” He turned to look at you over his shoulder. 

“I miss him. It feels weird not being around him when I know he’s on base.” You sighed and drummed your fingers against his table. “I feel awful that I just made another mess he has to clean up with Petras.”  

“It’s his job.” Gabe shrugged. “Just let him fulfill his strike commander duties first, he'll be okay after the stress of that is done.” You let out a distracted _hmm_ , wanting the conversation to veer away from Morrison and the twisted emotions you felt in your stomach making you not want to eat.

“How are your nightmares? They seem pretty vivid?” You recalled the heavy breathing and cries of pain he sometimes let out in his sleep. Throughout the night, once he'd finally fall asleep, you’d notice his body couldn’t stay still, you’d hear the sound of legs kicking against blankets or fists hitting the mattress.

“No worse than usual.” He sounded bitter. You listened to him stirring something, watch him flip pancakes before he spoke again. “I’ve been having a reoccurring one.”

“You should talk about it. If you want to.” He brought plates of food to you, sitting across and cutting in before he collected his thoughts.

“It always starts off during the war and I’m leading a charge into some battle. You’re always with me, Jesse and Genji too. Sometimes there’s other Blackwatch agents, ones that… aren’t here anymore. But, _every time_ something happens and I lose control. I give into this feeling that everyone around me has wronged me in some way and that they deserve to die and I slaughter them, I just absolutely slaughter them.” The way he stared at his food made you think he could still recall everything his mind showed him when he closed his eyes. You ate slowly waiting until he brought this fork to his face to bring yours up. “I’ll spare the gruesome details, but you’re always the last one. Sometimes I beg you to kill me and you won’t, you try to tell me you can fix it, but-”

He stared down at his pancakes, picking at them. Under the table his leg was bouncing, he was tapping the side of his fork against the plate between small bites as he considered what he was trying to say.

“I always end up-” He gestured at you and swallowed obvious guilt as he shook his head. “I always end up fucking strangling you. Every time.”

Shit. Your fingers shot to the base of your throat and pressed as if they were checking if his hand was already there trying to do it again. He pushed his half eaten plate away and rubbed his fingers across closed eyes.

“It’s okay-”

“No, it’s not fucking okay! Every time I wake up thinking I’ve killed someone, I feel like I’m getting closer and closer to losing my sense of reality. I feel like I’m going insane! I'm terrified I'm not going to wake up from it one day.” He closed his eyes again and rubbed at his temples taking steadying breaths. You dropped your hand from your neck and reached for his on the table, wrapping your fingers around his own and squeezing. Your words wouldn’t help this. “Sorry. Just-” The breathing through his nose was heavy. “Give me a minute.”

He shifted his hand to grip fingers between yours, holding on tight while he focused on calming himself down. You sat with him as nothing but the soft sound of his fridge buzzing across the linoleum of his kitchen floor and distant whistles from the boot camp blew outside closed windows.

When he opened his eyes to look back at you there was black creeping on the corners, slowly retreating away. He was getting better at controlling it, taking shorter amounts of time to revert. He took his plate from the table, followed with yours after a nod telling him you were done and he set them aside the sink.

“Come on, I’ll help you with that bandage and we can redress it after you shower.”

Hugging your arms loosely around yourself, you followed him to his bathroom. He waited and pretended to busy himself as you pulled the back of your shirt off, keeping your front covered, even though it was nothing he hadn’t seen before, and turned your laceration to him. Morrison should be the one doing this, you bit back a curse to him for not being here as your whole body cringed when Gabe pulled off the adhesives that had been stuck to your skin keeping the covering in place.       

“That's… interesting.” Behind you Gabe blew out a questioning breath. You felt his fingers running along the long wound and it sent a shiver across your skin making the hairs on your arms stick up. “It's almost healed. You should head to medical today, get these stitches taken out, you don’t need them. I’m going to rebandage it after you’re done, but damn, they really don’t know what they’re doing in medical, do they?”

Fuck. The bruises of Jesse’s grip on your arms were gone, too. He seemed to shift the blame for you, but you didn't know how to explain this. You didn’t know how to explain that your body was stronger and faster than ever. You felt so stupid for forgetting.

With a hurried _okay_ escaping from your lips, you turned to rush him out of the bathroom, probably spiking suspicion but not caring because your heart was pounding and you were visibly flustered. As soon as that door shut behind him you turned your back to the mirror and stared at the mark going from your shoulder blade down to your hip. Whatever Moira put in you was not what you asked her for. You waited until you heard his kitchen sink running to finally let out a held breath and start the shower. Under the running water your body felt even more exhausted than it did when you woke up. At the back of the shower you slowly sank against the tiled wall, sliding down until you were sat on the floor and the hard pressure of scalding hot water beat down at your legs. There’s too many secrets, too many layers and messes and everything felt like it was weighing you down.

At some point you closed your eyes, only opening them again to the sound of Gabe’s familiar knocking.

“Everything okay in there?” His muffled and worried voice floated through the sound of the water from the other side of the door.

“Sorry, I’ll be just another minute.” Your cracking voice called back out to him.

In a hurry to actually wash, now under lukewarm water, you rushed through your regular routine before patting yourself dry with the same standard issue towels that seemed to be in everyone’s rooms. You tossed your pajama shorts and Morrison’s SEP shirt you’d slept in to the side and pulled on your regular black leggings meant for casual days that you seemed to be wearing more and more of recently.

“Ready.” You called out as you opened the door, keeping your front covered with the towel as he came in with fresh bandages. He started working on your back again silently, hands pressing new adhesives to skin and running long cloth along a wound that for all real purposes didn’t actually need it.

“I think I want to try reforming completely tonight.” His voice sounded distracted. “I’ve been training by myself when I’m away and I think I can do it, but I want you there in case anything goes wrong.”

“Are you sure you're ready?" 

“It needs to happen sometime.” He finished with the adhesives and ran a hand one last time across the covering to make sure it was completely smoothed out. His eyes met yours in the mirror with a nod and he placed a reassuring pat on the side of your arm.

“Tonight, then.” You dug fingers into your sides as your body lit with anxiety, gaze following him as he turned the corner away from the bathroom to let you get your shirt on.    

It was afternoon by the time you left your makeshift bed on his couch, wandering out of the barracks with Gabe until he mumbled something about getting work done and left you to fend for yourself until training later tonight.

You caught up with Winston, who couldn’t have been more concerned for you if he tried. He adjusted his glasses and looked over you with worry as you sat in his lab and vented about how much you hated what a nightmare going into Null Sector caused. To blow off some steam you worked with him on a side project, something for Genji you think, but it helped that he let you keep yourself distracted. After Winston left for a meeting, you walked towards the medical wing. Just outside you stopped yourself as you thought about explaining to them how you healed so quickly. Maybe you could ask Moira to take the stitches out when you finally confronted her. But, first you had to muster up the courage to face her again after trailing her across the globe. By early evening you were sitting on a mesh bench along the running trail on the outskirts of the base. Cadets and strike team members alike would jog by and smile with small waves or stop to ask how you were doing after they heard what happened, you’d plaster on a fake smile and tell them you were just thankful to be okay, but god did it hurt not to be able to be honest about how awful you felt.

As night fell, you needed to head back to your room to change into your combat uniform before you met Gabe. You took your time wandering down the halls in the barracks until you saw the elevator open and waiting. There was enough distance between you and the doors that you could have waited for the next turn, but a bright blue jacket stood in the otherwise empty elevator and held the doors open for you, waiting until you joined him. He looked _exhausted_. He looked like he hadn’t been sleeping, his five o’clock shadow somehow even more prominent than usual and dark bags heavy under his eyes. 

“How are your shoulders feeling?” Morrison asked as he pushed the button for your floor and his.

“Sore. There’s still swelling but they’re better.” You stood next to him but you couldn’t look at either of your reflections in the mirrored walls. One arm in front of you, the other rubbing small comforting motions on your elbow, you knew you must have looked like you were in a bad state, but he looked much, much, worse. He looked miserable. He looked like he was on the verge of a break down. 

“I’m happy you’re feeling better.” His voice was sad, strained from overuse. “Petras is having me fly out to London tomorrow to make a public appearance and go over details of the investigation from London. I should be back in time for the charity event and I think once I’m done in London-”

“Jack, can I have a hug?” You cut him off, grabbing at his hand and turning to face him.

He didn’t say anything. Instead he circled arms around you loosely and dropped his face to the top of your head where you could feel gentle kisses, fingers slipping into your hair and a familiar warmth spreading across your skin again. You grabbed the back of his jacket, fingers curling tight and pushing yourself onto your tiptoes to get as much of him as you could. The doors opened to your floor and he dropped his arms, placing a hand at the small of your back and the other to your cheek.

“Why did you have to go out there?” He whispered and he sounded so _hurt_. “I could have lost you.” With a small kiss to your forehead he gently pushed at your back, sending you on your way out the elevator. “I’ll see you soon, get some rest while I’m gone.”

You turned to watch him as the doors slid shut, he leaned back heavy against the reflective walls covering his mouth with his hand and eyes welling in the corners. It felt like you’d been punched in the gut or like someone shoved a hunting knife directly into your chest and twisted it around. With hurried steps you bolted to your door and punched in Morrison’s stupid birthday before you tore through your room for your Blackwatch uniform and waited curled on your bed until late in the night.

* * *

        

Gabe’s familiar knocking on your door came just after one in the morning as you were laying awake in a cold bed staring up into flickering stars. You followed him quietly to the training room and took your time stretching sore shoulders, making sure the mats were set up, glancing to each other to confirm this was actually happening.

You started with sparring. Easy sparring, so you wouldn’t hurt yourself. His movements were short, small, breathing shaky and rapid. Both of you kept your eyes on the other as you circled, patiently waiting for the mock fight to turn into something more dangerous. He was getting better at anticipating your moves, a fact that filled your stomach with nervousness.

“Ready?” You asked him after you landed a blow to his stomach and knocked the wind out of him briefly.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

It wasn’t until he slammed you on your back to the mat and you froze to stare at him that he loomed above you with closed eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose, clenching and unclenching his fists at his side. When he opened his eyes again, he looked directly to you, face shrouded in shadow from the dim lighting and his eyes spreading to black from the corners. You propped yourself up on your elbows, fingers lingering over the pocket with Genji’s knives and Moira’s serum, just in case. You watched with wide eyes and sweat beading down your forehead as his form slowly swirled into black smoke. He started from his feet, the smoke playing tricks on you as his body was overtaken, seemingly floating for a brief moment. He kept the endless black eyes fixated on you until his head was overtaken, his eyes watching carefully wait to see if you would get too frightened.

Once he was nothing but a unrecognizable form, you let your mouth hang open in awe watching the smoke falling to the floor in silence. When the physical form of the man you knew crept away against the mats, you scrambled to your feet and felt more like you were in a strange science fiction film than seeing it with your eyes. He curled across the ground with snake like movements, the smoke inched towards you as you took a few cautionary steps back. Breath caught in your throat, the black swirled at your feet, smoke slipping between your ankles and across the dirty sparring mats. He was moving your shoe laces, tugging at them you think, then finally pulling back away.   

The smoke built upon itself in front of you, climbing higher and higher in the air, forming Gabe’s shape until he became solid again. He towered over you, only inches away and his face was both surprised and confused as he examined his body with shaky hands, endless black eyes wide and smoke still pluming from his body, but his form tangible.   

“How did it feel?” You forced yourself to ask through a small gasp, circling him to check for any missing limbs or obvious changes. He left his mouth hanging open for a moment and when you found his face again he was grinning.

“Powerful.” Holy shit his voice was deep.

“Gabe-” You caught your breath as you stepped back from him almost in a stumble.

He turned his hands over in front of him, eyes slowly regaining the whites and smile leaving his face replaced with astonishment. Careful fingers lowered his beanie, his body twisting and straightening out his back with grunts and loud pops as he rolled his neck. You could hear every deep breath pushing through his nose as his chest would rise and fall until finally all the smoke around him was thinning and gone and his eyes were back to their normal dark centers.

“If I can learn to control this faster, I could be unstoppable.” That made fear spike directly into your heart, pins shot through your veins as he grabbed you by the shoulders.

“Maybe we should stop for the night. Don't push yourself too hard.” Your voice was hushed. “I don’t want you to lose control.”  

“I feel safer trying when you’re here with me. Thank you, for helping me with this. I know it’s been a horrible thing to do and I’ve asked so much of you, but I can’t begin to explain how much I appreciate your loyalty.”

“We’re family, Gabe.”

“Family.” He repeated to himself as he ruffled a hand over the top of your head. He brought you into a tight side hug and led you towards the door, turning to glance at the mats over his shoulder a last time before turning off the lights to the sparring room.  

* * *

 

“Wake up.” Gabe’s face was hovering above yours as you laid across his couch and twisted beneath the knit blanket.

“The fuck? I just got to sleep-”

“Come on, we have a mission.” He pulled the blanket from you. “I already have your uniform on the plane. We need to go, now.”

Like a good soldier you shot up and only grabbed what you needed. Your phone was left on his couch side table, spare clothes folded perfectly on the floor, you quickly slid your combat pants with Genji’s knives and Moira’s serum on over your pajama shorts, grabbed your shoes and ran at Gabe’s side to the Blackwatch ship bay. He hurried you in to his little black plane, checking over the empty port, scanning before closing the door and immediately jumping to the pilot’s seat.

“So, what’s the rush?” You asked, setting your boots down and plopping yourself in the copilot’s chair.

“We need to infiltrate some data systems and there’s only a limited window we can do it in. I didn’t expect it to happen tonight, but I guess this is when we have to do this.” He looked nervous, lines of sweat coming down the side of his face beneath his beanie. “Good thing Jack’s in London, he’d lose his goddamn mind. There may be potential combat.”

“Shit. Out of the frying pan and straight into the fire again I guess, huh?” You tried to joke with him, but he looked solemnly serious.

You swallowed your joking attitude and sat back in the chair for take off while you read the mission report. The more you looked at it, the more something didn’t quite seem… right. Maybe Gabe would fudge the mission type to keep it under wraps from Morrison, but this report also stated you were going in the complete opposite direction Gabe was flying and it indicated you were _alone_. Everything on the report seemed wrong. He was acting stiffer than usual, his hands gripping the wheel too tight.   

“Gabe?” Your voice was hesitant. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t say anything and your stomach almost jumped into your throat at his silence. Dark skies and the dark cabin were setting you off even more and suddenly you’d never felt like he was more dangerous than he was at the moment you were thousands of feet in the air all alone with someone who dreamt about killing you every single night.

You didn’t have your phone. There was no communication on this ship that could link you to Overwatch. If this was the breaking point you were completely alone and completely frozen in fear. 

“Do you trust me?” He finally breathed out just before you were able to break out in a sweat.

“Completely, but you’re really freaking me out right now.” You grabbed onto the sleeve of his sweatshirt hoping he understood how actually scared you were that he wasn’t telling you what you were doing.

“We’re infiltrating the data centers at Talon headquarters.” You sat in stunned silence for a moment, unblinking and frozen with your fingers gripped into his sleeve. “Those plans you got us had a hell of a lot more than you thought they would. They’re trying to assassinate Blackwatch and Overwatch commanders, they already have little spies in our ranks. We’re going in and we’re going to get whatever we can to uncover who we have working for us.”

“Are you fucking insane? Just the two of us?”  

“That’s all we need. I’m your in and your cover, you just do your magic.”

“I really would have appreciated a little heads up, Gabe. This isn’t just some regular mission, I’m already injured and this is such a huge risk-”

“I know.” He flipped on the overhead lights to see you and finally turned to meet you face to face. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t expect it to happen this suddenly but this is our only time to strike. Can I count on you?” He brought a firm hand to the side of your arm just under your injured shoulder and looked you so intensely in the eyes it made all the words in your mind scramble together.

“Absolutely, sir.”  

“Then I need you to open that.” His eyes fell to the back of the ship where you turned and saw the black box that had been under his console was now waiting near the weapons hold. You stared at him for a moment too long to process what he said to you and he snapped. “Move, agent!”

That got you scrambling out of your seat and to the heavily locked box. Something about it seemed horrible and dangerous, you felt the same you imagined you would feel if you were approaching a wild animal. When you stood next to it, he tossed you the dog tags around his neck which you stared at and ran your fingers over the ridges spelling out his name. A set of keys hung between them that allowed you to unlock the physical locks with shaking hands until you stared at him over your shoulder for the code on the keypad.

“It’s your name.” He said through gritted teeth, barely audible over the roaring of the ship before he returned to man the pilot’s console.  

You could barely spell out your name, it felt like your fingers couldn't steady themselves. Nerves or fear or doubt, or maybe a mix of everything was rushing through your veins and it felt like you had tunnel vision as the lock clicked open with a happy green light blinking back at you. Maybe just to torture yourself, or just in fear of what you’d find, you opened the lid slowly revealing to yourself what was inside. You shuddered out a gasp and slapped your hand over your mouth. Talon uniforms. Just like the ones the agents who blew up the Blackwatch base in Rome wore, just like the ones from the surveillance videos in Rialto. Two Talon uniforms, perfectly packed and perfectly shiny.

“Gabe. Where did you get these?” You felt like you were out of breath. He didn't turn around, didn't move. “Gabriel!” You shouted at him and your voice broke.

“From our evidence lockers! Get dressed before I come back there and dress you myself!” He's never yelled at you like this, there was something so frightening behind it. When you paused, you could see small tendrils of black creeping off his shoulders and you had to catch racing thoughts beating against your chest as you turned back to box. There was no way these uniforms were in Overwatch evidence lockers. These ones were brand new. All the ones Overwatch had were dinged up and dirty from buildings falling on them or bloody from a massacre in Italy with bullet holes and sword slashes- no, these were perfectly intact.

The two uniforms were different. One with a red helmet sitting on top and what looked like a breathing apparatus attached to it, the other white and harsh, both with white shoulder armor bearing the familiar Talon logo. Every fiber of your being told you not to put that uniform on.

Apparently you stared into the box for too long mentally making the rounds of what Gabe had been doing that you didn't know about, crouched over the box with a hand covering your mouth, from the corner of your eye Gabe's massive form shot from his chair and your head snapped to him. No one in Overwatch knew what he was doing, probably not even Gérard. You could tell Morrison, you could refuse the uniform and demand to be taken back to base and tell your Strike Commander all of your suspicions and your secrets.     

“ _Now_.” His deep voice bellowed.

It was decision time.

Gabe was always there, from the very beginning.

He's trusted you with his secrets, with his life and his work.

He has to have his reasons. 

“Which mask is mine?” You asked quietly, swallowing your doubts and hovering your hands above the uniforms.

“Red.” He came to a halt a couple feet from you.

This was a small ship, just enough room for you both to stand but nowhere to go for privacy. You shoved off your combat pants and the pajama shorts beneath as he pulled off his own top. Your eyes immediately fell to the bruise he'd covered the previous morning. If he was going to ask you to do something like this, you needed to know everything, he wasn't allowed to keep secrets from you anymore. 

“You need to tell me what happened here.” You said a little more angry than you intended, touching his side where the big bruise was fading and the cuts were mostly healed over.

“I was scouting a guy known for his connections with Talon. Cornelius Tishler, he’s an asshole from Scotland that I have suspicions of being head of the human trafficking part of the org. His lackeys noticed me while I was tailing and shot out the wheels of my ride.” He took out the white helmet and stared at it for a moment before bringing the black Talon shirt around his large frame. 

“Jesus, Gabe.” You said under your breath, pulling on the under armors of your own Talon uniform. You each dressed but left the armor off, sitting in the box waiting for a stealthy landing far from the Talon base where you would sneak on once Gabe gave the okay. 

As you stood there with him in the wrong fatigues, for the wrong organization, and the wrong armor tucked away in a box that made you nervous, you tried not to question his choices or his decisions. He must have seen the concern written across your face and the way you felt around the many foreign pockets on your Talon uniform checking the things he'd left for you in each.

One of his palms fell lightly against your shoulder, the black smoke around him finally disappearing again. From your pocket you produced a badge with nonsense letters and numbers that had white bold letters across it granting you admin access, but to what you didn't know.

“I’ll ask you again, do you trust me?” His hands moved to cup at your cheeks, eyes burning into yours as he lifted your sight from the badge.  

“With my life, Commander Reyes.”

“Good. You're going to need to follow my lead. Don't fall behind, don't look at anyone, don't speak. I'm going to make sure we both get out of this unscathed.”

* * *

You don't think you'd ever sweat this much in your life. Not only was the Talon uniform with the armor on heavy and sticking to your skin, but you were speed walking to keep up with Gabe as he guided you through twisting and turning underground tunnels from the edge of the city. You'd pass by other small groups of helmet clad agents who would nod in acknowledgement at both of you, but you kept your head down. You had no doubt in your mind he'd been here before, that he'd practiced the route or studied the layout. For as sudden as the mission seemed, he was prepared. 

As you got closer to the data center, he'd hold out an arm to keep you back when steps came too close, listening for the sounds of muffled conversations or clicking of weapons before skirting around an edge with you tailing.

He stood close behind as he had you scan the admin access card into a secured area. You almost fell to the floor when you saw the seemingly endless sea that was their digital storage- rows and rows of giant cyber towers that looked like they filled the entirety of a warehouse. Dropped lights from the ceiling currently hung in darkness making it impossible to know how big the room actually was and you placed a steadying hand over the Talon symbol on Gabe's shoulder letting out a relieved shaky breath before you moved to take off your helmet. 

"Keep it on. Getting in was the easy part, there's no guarantee that we're safe yet." He placed a hand on the back of your armor and carefully guided you down rows of blinking lights. "They're doing server maintenance on section C tonight, that's the one that has all the agent data. How long do you think it'll take for you to get anything useful?" 

"I don't know, there's a lot of people with Talon. We could be looking at minutes or hours or days depending on how they condense their files." When you spoke it came with a low hiss from the mask but you tried to keep your voice quiet just in case anyone else was hidden somewhere in the massive hold.

"Do what you can, I'll cover for as long as possible." He brought you to a section of towers that were clearly different than the others, instead of constantly flashing blue lights these ones flickered in yellow. "Shit. They already started, get working."

He moved out of the way for you and you folded out a hacking screen, connected to the servers while Gabe nervously paced back and forth at your side with watchful eyes and quick head movements that only served to heighten your already on edge anxiety.

The files were gigantic, just like you suspected. You'd be lucky to get even a quarter of the data they were storing if you could be here all night. Thinking on your toes, you ran a filter for any agents that matched with any variation of 'Overwatch' you could think of. It was a long shot, if they were smart they'd use a code word- 

 _Oh_ , they're not that smart they seemed.

Hundreds of results came back- better than the thousands you would have been sifting through before. You hurried to download that data first, foot tapping with impatience on the floor. If you had a watch you'd be checking it every few minutes stressing yourself out, instead as you focused only on the screen in your hands and the sound of Gabe shifting at your side, you guessed you'd been there for a little over an hour.

The squeaky secured door opened with white light pouring into the darkened server room and the noise echoed against the machines making your blood run cold as you stopped moving and stared at Gabe.

"Don't panic. I've got this, stay low and keep going." He said towards you from what sounded like the corner of his mouth. He turned towards the noise and walked until he was met another set of steps a few isles over from you. You couldn't see the agent, but you could see their shadows meshing together through the isles lit by the light from the hall.  

"What are you doing down here?" Asked an unfamiliar voice. 

"Server maintenance, they wanted someone on patrol while everything's down. What do you think _you're_ doing down here?" Gabe was using his commander tone. 

"Patrol. I wasn't told about anyone guarding the servers tonight, you sure your schedules right?" There was almost a laugh at the end, like a gag between work buddies. 

You felt like you were going to throw up. Every muscle was tensing trying to keep yourself together, hoping Gabe wouldn't say anything stupid to get you both caught. You heard them chuckling at some inappropriate joke the Talon agent made about 'that broad in scheduling' who apparently was, in the nicest way you could twist his words, ditzy. It was a brief conversation, one that made your stomach turn with nerves until you heard the footsteps leave and the door close again. You gripped at the hacking screen, eyes focusing only on what was in front of you until Gabe returned to his place at your side.

"I bought us some time, but not for long. My guess is he's calling someone now to check if anyone is supposed to be down here."

"This was an insane plan from the start and you know it. We should have had a team." 

"We are a team." Gabe growled down at you. He kept his helmet focused to the door, expecting the agent would return at any moment. "Status?" 

"90% complete on all agents that match with Overwatch searches, 45% on everyone else-" You stopped as you heard the telltale sign of a static radio crackling in from far away, your think you heard something about back up and immediately you looked to Gabe for commands. He must have heard it too, his white mask snapped to you and he ripped the cord connecting your screen to the tower. 

"That's going to have to do." 

Before you knew it you were following him through a maintenance hall, running to a set of heavily protected metal doors that cautioned anyone from exiting with unless it was low tide. He grunted when he swung open the beefy metal lock holding it shut and at your feet a small flood of water rushed in spilling over gray shiny floors.

There was no time to cover your tracks, all you could do was flee. The tunnel you were running for your life through looked more like a mine shaft than anything, the floor was covered in wet mud seeping in through vents at the bottom and long thick cables strapped to the ceiling with heavy duty studs lit in little green and blue dots providing your only light. The mud under your boots made it difficult to run but you didn't have a choice but to pick up speed when you started hearing shouting and a small army of footsteps not far behind you.

The damp maze of the underground walkway led to an opening into what looked like a drained canal and Gabe grabbed your wrist to keep you up with him as the rush of footsteps caught up. 

"There's two of them!" You heard an agent shout behind you.

If you turned to look it would have only slowed you down, but then you may have also seen the Talon troopers readying their fire your way. Their shots popped across the deep cement ravine, ricocheting and whizzing around you. It felt like your whole body was running on pure adrenaline, you no longer felt the burning pain in your legs from working them so much, no longer had pulsing temples from staring at the screen in the dark. 

Your arm still in Gabe's grip he pulled you around tight corners and through narrow passageways, the sound of shouting and gunfire getting further and further away with each escape route. You were breathing hard, harder than you should have been for just running, it was like you were struggling to breathe at all. It felt like your whole body was soaked in sweat, but you also were suddenly hit with a wave of nausea and felt clammy against the uniform. 

Once he was confident they were far enough away, he wrapped arms at your waist and hoisted you above him so you could grab the edge of the ravine and get into the city. When he pressed his arms around you, an uncontrollable groan left your lips, a sharp pain shooting deep into your midsection.

"Fuck!" You gasped as you fell heavy to the top edge and stayed still, hunched over and grabbing at your side. Gabe lifted himself from the empty canal and helped you to your feet. 

"Ditch the armor, throw it to the other side." He was already clicking his Talon armor off starting with his helmet and, chucking it across the ravine and landing on a grassy spot. You tried to follow his instructions but it felt like your hands weren't listening to you and you were moving too slow. His hair was matted down from sweat and the helmet, but you watched his face immediately change from intimidating focus to horrified concern when you took your own helmet off.  

"Shit, Gabe-" Your gloves were covered in blood.  

"Were you shot?" Suddenly his hands were at your midsection clicking the armor off for you and tossing it. His eyes widened as he found a damp red soaked spot on the black under armor shirt on your side. "The ship is just on the outskirts, I think about a mile from here. Can you still move?" 

"I-" You hissed through gritted teeth as searing pain shot through your nerves. The voices were getting closer again, there was no way you were outrunning them in this state. With no hesitation Gabe crouched in front of you, opening his arms for you to climb onto his back. It hurt and pulled at the wound but it was better than jostling it around by running yourself. His arms holding your legs in place and your arms wrapped at his neck he ran faster than you think you'd ever seen him run before. He darted through side streets and alleyways sitting in silence with their lights off.

The city looked beautiful at night, something you wished you'd be able to appreciate without a bullet digging into your muscle tissue or the doubt chewing away at your gut telling you Gabe hasn't been exactly honest with you about everything he'd been doing these last few months. By the time he was jumping over rocks in a dark field towards the ship, you were gripping hard into the fabric of his shirt and pressing a forehead to the back of his hair trying not to scream in pain. 

The first thing he did back in the ship was fold out the cot for you, sitting you down in a comfortable place. 

"I need to get us in the air, hang on just a little longer." He left you, grabbing at your side and moaning in pain, stealing himself away to the pilot's chair. "Get the shirt off, we need to see how bad it is." 

On the moonless night like that night, any Talon agents watching for escapees only would have been able to tell a plane was flying if they were watching the stars. He took off with the plane in complete darkness, immediately climbing as high into the air as he could. You let out a crying scream as you moved the shirt from your wound, the fabric sticking to blood and skin until you peeled it off and threw the stupid uniform shirt to the ground. 

"Well, I can see the butt of the bullet so it didn't get too deep at least." Gabe was in front of you again and you realized you had no idea when he even got up, and for that matter you don't even know when you had laid down.  

"You need to pull it out." You grunted as you sat up. 

"If I take it out we risk you bleeding more, we need to wait for medical back on base." 

"How do you want me to explain I got shot?" Your voice was angry and sarcastic which made his face twist as he stared back at the blood across your skin. "If you think Morrison is mad now, imagine what he'll do when he finds out you took me on a combat mission and got me shot." 

"Alright, enough. Lay back down." His hand gently pushed at your shoulder putting you back against the cot before he dug around in a side compartment for a first aid kit. "It's not going to be pretty. I don't have anything for pain or anything for stitches, as soon as I get that thing out I'm going to be putting a lot of pressure on it. It's going to hurt." 

"It already fucking hurts!" God you were about ready to try to get the bullet out yourself if he kept trying to prep you for it. 

"Here." He barked out, holding out his glove. "To stop you from complaining and from breaking your teeth while I get it out." You snatched it from his hand and threw it between gritting teeth, taking a deep breath before covering your face with the inside of your arm and gripping your fingers against the edges of the cot. 

"Mm refy." You mumbled out through the glove, he must have understood your 'I'm Ready', immediately you felt pinching at the area. You could feel him digging through using something metal- tweezers or a knife it didn't really matter it all felt the same- and it was so fucking painful. You couldn't stop a horrible crying whine that was pushing from your throat with every movement. It felt like your body was being shattered, like every nerve was being singed.    

"I know it hurts. Try to take slower breaths, you're moving too much." He placed a big palm against the top of your stomach while the other one worked at the bullet and you could feel how wet it was, palm sweat mixing with your blood and smearing across your skin. You tried to focus on the hand at your stomach, on the gentle way his thumb moved in an unconscious attempt to comfort you as he pried the foreign object from your body. "Almost have it." 

Your body was shaking like a leaf now that the rush of adrenaline and shock left. The arm covering your face dropped to his at your stomach and wrapped at his wrist holding on just as tight as you had been to the edge of the cot, nails sinking into him as you bit back the pain through the glove in your mouth. He shook you off and all at once you heard metal clattering to the floor and felt him pressing into your side as hard as he could. You glanced to the floor and the blood soaked bullet, letting the glove fall from your mouth at the sight, and a defeated laugh left your lips. 

"It's so small." It was stupid something like that could hurt you so bad. On the ground it looked so insignificant. Gabe glanced behind him to check it out as well and returned to you with a halfhearted smile. 

"We're lucky that Talon armor is pretty good. It got all the way through that first. Would have ripped right through you if you didn't have it on." He changed out a blood soaked bandage for another one and returned with crushing pressure. "Still hurts?" 

"Abso-fucking-lutely." You breathed out. 

"Squeeze." He held out his hand which you gripped as hard as you physically could and accidentally cracked some of his knuckles which made you laugh through the pain. "See? You're just fine, strong as ever. I bet you're even faking how much pain you're in just so you can have me taking care of you." He joked and checked the bandage again, trying to hide the concerned face he made as he saw the devastation to your side. 

"You wish." You laughed out, then sighed sadly as you squirmed beneath his pressure twisting your face to look in his eyes. "Gabe, if you ever lie to me, even lying by omission, I swear on my life that I will tell Morrison everything, even if that means ruining what I have with him and ruining your career with Overwatch. I don't give a shit what we do, I just need you to be honest with me about it. Starting with where you actually got those uniforms." 

"From their base." His brows were down and eyes unable to look to yours. "I've been infiltrating since you got all that information. It had a lot of communication between Talon agents that work in the uniform and janitorial departments, and turns out, they're pretty casual when they think no one is checking what they're talking about." 

You gave him an unapproving look to which he responded with an unsure shrug of his shoulders. 

"That's why Gérard didn't want you, or anyone really, to have access to it. It's all highly classified bullshit. He refused to let me put a team together to put it all to use, so I did what I had to do and took matters into my own hands." 

"You've been sneaking off to Talon this whole time?" 

"I have." He didn't even look sorry. Pressure left you for another moment to switch out the bandage again, blood soaked ones dropping to the floor. "Bleeding is stopping, that's a good sign." 

"When I'm not incapacitated I'm going to kick your ass." You sighed, half joking but also very much serious, as you threw your arm back over your face. 

"Let's make it back to base first." He moved your hand down to the bandage and pressed until you knew how hard to keep it there. Before he let go he dropped to a knee down next to you, face level with yours. He wanted to say something and he searched your face for a while before seemingly deciding against it, instead leaning forward and placing a kiss at the edge of your hair. "You're smearing blood all over yourself."

* * *

The next morning, or more so the afternoon it looked like, you woke to an empty room laid in Gabe's bed.

The plane ride back that night after getting cleaned and putting on a uniform that wasn't covered in blood mostly consisted of you drifting in and out of consciousness as the sun spilled in from foggy windows. In the still of early morning Gabe helped you back to the barracks, helping you avoid any encounters with other agents who were also awake at an ungodly hour. You almost couldn't make it all the way in his room, exhausted legs stumbling against the door frame until he circled an arm under your shoulders and lead to his bed. 

"Get some sleep. I'll be on the couch."

He didn't have to tell you twice, you were out like a light the moment you crashed your head against a pillow. Then, suddenly, it was morning. You laid in a bed that wasn't yours and stared at how the slats in his blinds created little lines that rolled over every texture and down across his walls, one of the lights landing on a row of pictures on his wall- group photos of mostly the early days in Overwatch when everyone was youthful and shit hadn't hit the fan yet. You stayed there and held your sore side wondering why you weren't in nearly as much pain as you should have been for someone who had just been shot, too afraid to get up and look in the mirror.

The sun was setting and darkness threatened the room which finally gave you the courage to stand up. You weren't in pain, but it felt like a strain on every muscle just to move, almost like you'd been bruised all over your whole body. You found Gabe was gone as you looked through his room, just a simple note left in his place waiting for you on the door leading to the hallway. _Cleaning,_ it said and you could only assume he meant the now blood soaked plane. 

With the only wind of confidence you had you finally approached the bathroom, lifting your shirt to look at the wound.  

There was no denying it, not any more.

You stared in the mirror at an actual honest to god bullet wound that was bleeding down your abdomen just yesterday that was now nothing more than a minor scab. You were breathless, fingers pressing against the raised skin as you chewed your bottom lip and stared up to the ceiling trying desperately not to break down. Each second your nails dug into your skin you were getting angrier and angrier. _Fuck. Moira. Fuck her and fuck how fast you were now, how strong you were now. Fuck._

With little care as you stormed out the door, you brought your strike team pullover over your shoulders, huffing out of your room and through the halls and out of the barracks. You checked the time on your phone in a hurry as you shouldered past strike team agents greeting you with warm smiles and waves, so many missed calls, so many missed messages. Your scowl and balled fists immediately parted the small groups as you bull rushed your way to Moira’s lab.

It was almost 5pm, she’d be hanging up her lab coat and unbuttoning the top few buttons of her dress shirt the moment her day ended but you were coming in blazing hot, prepared to do anything for answers. When you slammed open her door she turned to you with a calm demeanor and pushed loose hairs from her face. You were breathing heavy through your nose, shoulders dropping with each puff and eyes hyper fixated on her casual movements.

“I wasn’t expecting you this evening.” She carefully rolled her sleeves up, the top of her shirt now hung loose around her neck without the tie and unbuttoned.

“What the fuck did you do to me Moira!” You shouted, unable to control the anger in your voice. You gripped the edge of your shirt, holding it high and twisting to the side to show her your wound, your now almost healed bullet wound. “I got shot. _Yesterday_.”

“I thought you were on a noncombat mission?” She had a little smile on her lips as if she was proud of herself for the cheeky comment. 

You growled as you pushed her hard to the wall, pinning down her tall shoulders and gritting your teeth as your body shook.

“I never asked to be a fucking super soldier. Whatever shit you put in me, I want it out.” You tried to be intimidating, but that’s hard to do when someone looms over you and seems to be more in control of your body than you are.

“You asked me to fix you.” Her brows twisted and you saw… concern?

“Fix me? You call pumping me full of soldier enhancement drugs fixing me?”

“I didn’t put any soldier enhancement _drugs_ in you.” She looked disgusted that you would even suggest that. “Let go of me.” Her lips curled in a snarl and with a small shove you dropped your fists to your side.  

You watched her with suspicion and shuddering uncontrolled breaths as she searched through her notebooks filed away in a drawer at the far end of her lab. Her mismatched eyes scanned through before handing you the notes, pages flopped open to neat handwriting you’d felt like you read before.

“When you were still having fevers I told you the only solution I’d found was the introduction of new genetic material.” Your mind raced, sweating palms gripping the ends of pages as you looked through the notes again, it was the detailed writings of the experiments she did on your blood when she was trying to cure the mess she caused in the first place with a destructive cocktail of drugs a long time ago. “You read my notes. I was under the impression you understood.”

You stared up at her with the horrible dawning realization.

Genetic material.

The more you looked at the page you realized she'd written small margin notes indicating just the soldier enhancement serum wasn't having an effect on your blood samples. In tiny easily dismissive letters she wrote that she needed material that had already taken to the body altering chemicals. She needed to introduce a sample of someone who had survived the SEP experiments. 

Your heart sank to the floor, it felt like your whole body became completely hollow in the span of a millisecond. You felt completely numb and dropped her notes to the ground in a flurry of spiraling paper. 

She’s a woman of science, of reason. Surely she would know better than to do something so drastic. Were you sweating? You couldn't lift your hands to check, suddenly your body felt like it was spiraling through an endless galaxy as you tried to form a name on your tongue. Your stomach pulsed and threatened to escape with every breath you pushed through your nose as you shook your head at her.

“You are perfectly healthy now. I only laced you with enough of his genes to let your body fight away the permanent fever, the quick healing seems to be a... happy side effect.” She lifted your chin pressing fingers to your cheeks and you almost slapped her. “My sweet girl, have you not realized this whole time?”

You wanted to cry. Scream and fight but it felt like the whole god damn world was dropping out under you. You wanted to push her against that stupid chair in the corner of her room and shove those needles straight into her cold eyes.

“Who-” You were catching your breath with fear overcoming you knowing _exactly_ whose genes you had intertwined in your own. She moved one of her hands to stroke through your hair in careful petting motions, long nails grazing against your scalp sending shivers down the back of your neck and prickling across your spine.

“You’re sharp. I think you already know who.” It was like she had some sort of sick personal satisfaction seeing you like this, seeing you all broken up. She had that small smile still on her lips as her hands held you with false comfort.

“How- how could you?” You sobbed out. “Gabriel’s own body is unstable! You know that- and- and you-”

“Shh.” She cupped your jaw. “There’s no need to cry now. Either your body was going to overheat to a point where you had permanent brain damage, or we had to take the chance of his _condition_ carrying over. You haven't had any of his side effects have you?”  

“No, but, there’s other super soldiers-” You hiccuped and gripped onto her arm too hard, hard enough to bruise the scientists fair skin. “Jack-”

“And what would you have had me ask the Strike Commander, hm?” The fingers at your face held you tighter, her eyes becoming more intense as they stared into yours. “Would you have preferred I told him _why_ you were in that condition? Why a Blackwatch scientist would need his blood? Or how about that I found you strangled near to death and half naked on Gabriel's floor? Don't be foolish.” She threw your face to the side and for once you were left absolutely speechless. 

You asked her to fix you, but not like this. You wanted the fevers to stop, but Moira, _not like this_. 

How would you explain this to Morrison, to Jesse? At some point they'll get suspicious, they'll wonder how you managed to top all of your records on marksmanship and running, they'll see how quickly you heal and- shit. 

"Does Gabe know about this too?" You couldn't stop the lump in your throat. 

"Of course not. You came to me in confidence, I would never break your trust like that." She was digging, clearing digging just to try to hurt you in such a stupid petty way. You finally let go of her arm and stared at your hands as if they were brand new. 

"You're insane."

"I've been accused of worse."  

 


	30. Charity Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Put on that blue dress and pretend like everything's normal.

Even with the anger and the betrayal you felt stabbing deep in your gut, you sat dead-eyed and patient on the stool in the corner of her lab as Moira reminded you that she’s not a medical doctor and ripped the stitches from your back. She was being rougher than she needed to but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything else, to argue or scream. You let her take out her controlled anger in her own way, your body swaying with each pull of a stitch from your skin. Her lab was still and spotless but your nostrils were filled with the smell of forest fire and you closed your eyes, breathing it in, letting your mind settle as you tried to focus on the hands at your back. 

When she was done, her long nails that made you nervous rested against your shoulder and in a sick moment of seeking out any refuge you placed your hand over hers. 

“I am no longer in need of your help for any of my tests.” The way she spoke was like she was spitting on you. “But, I am always available to you as your friend. After all, you have been the only person here who has been even remotely kind to me, and I’d hate to see such a silly thing like a misunderstanding come between us.”

Fuck Moira.

Her words were facetious and calculated, actions and moral compass blurring the lines between madness and evil, but it left a bitter taste of heavy smoke on your tongue that she looked genuinely hurt you would have doubted her work, her ability, that you would doubt  _her_.  

You left Moira’s lab wordlessly and in a daze.  

Body on autopilot, it wandered from the labs out into the open walking paths around base, legs moving but your mind stuck in processing mode as you stared blankly ahead and ignored the concerned questions of agents passing by you. In your stomach nausea was spreading like a virus and it felt like buzzing all across your skin, it was seeping into your organs, soaking into muscle tissue, and all you could think about was a visceral panic and what you’d look like with all black eyes like Gabe’s. 

With heavy head movements you looked around at the grass and the trees ahead, lit with an orange sunset that hurt at the very backs of your eyes and light spilling between long shadowed teams of happy agents that were running and playing catching games in the field, and even with so many people around you’d never felt so absolutely alone in your life.

No one here knew, no one here _could_ know what your world had twisted into. Suddenly a minefield seemed so far away, forest fires and screams of fallen team members, faulty contracts and windows shattering seemed like another person's problems. You felt like an alien standing there on the same sidewalk you'd run over hundreds and hundreds of times before. You blinked and you must have been crying, your cheeks wet in small streaks but your face stayed stoic and your body swayed with the breeze and over the sound of crackling trees in the hollows of your mind, you barely heard the German being uttered under someone’s breath at your side.  

“Are you alright?” Reinhardt’s gigantic hand was gentle as he touched your shoulder. Your eyes moved to his face but you couldn't bring yourself to twist your neck towards him. No words would form in your mouth, dry lips stuck together completely unable to even open and your arms felt like jelly at your side.

Are you alright? What a stupid question.

His face was growing with concern every silent second that passed and you breathed harder and harder until finally-

“No.” You laughed out as your expression twisted, clearly finding absolutely nothing about this funny. His face morphed from concern to sympathy and he moved next to you, offering his arm for you to take.

“Something tells me you need a good meal and good company.” He nodded down to his arm as you wiped with the ends of your sleeves on your cheeks. With tiny slow nods you accepted and hooked your hand around him.

He walked slow for you, kept the closed smile on his lips and watched you from the corner of his eyes as you continued to stare at the mundane things around you and contemplate how you'd never really appreciated how simple things used to be. He walked you to the barracks and to the elevator where you stared at your glossed over look in the mirrored walls until you were in his room and sat on a bar stool at his counter looking into a tiny kitchenette.

He muttered to himself in his native tongue as he searched through his cabinets and fridge. Long blond hair twisted in a fist until he brought it loosely out of his face and to the top of his head where he kept it in place with tiny gold bobby pins you swore you'd seen Ana use in her own hair before. He looked ridiculous in this room, arms in the air fixing his hair, his elbows almost touched the ceiling- a big guy cramped in a glorified dorm room is more what it looked like.    

“It is no grand kitchen, but it will have to do.” He laughed off your wondering stares with a shrug and brought little pots and pans over a mobile burner plate heating them up before he started chopping on a cutting board directly in front of you and a big sigh fell from his chest. “You were in such a state when we found you in London, I am surprised to already see you up and around.”

“I guess I’m tougher than I look.” You deadpanned and even though he didn’t actually understand the weight of your own self deprecation, he gave you a careful pat on your folded arms.  

“You are an incredibly strong woman. Jack knows this too.” Oh. He thought _that’s_ what you were upset about. In a way you were still, but the fresher wounds were making it hard to focus on the temporary problem of Morrison getting a grip on his emotions.

“Thank you, Reinhardt.” 

He returned to his chopping and a polite conversation morphed into a dramatic retelling of a story you already heard, but you didn’t mind, it gave you the chance to space out and ponder possible explanations you could give, all the lies you could come up with to save face with the people in your life who would be so hurt if they knew about what you were doing, what you had in you. He would sneak worried glance at you over his shoulder during the lulls of silence where you would be staring at a spot of nothing.  

You ate with Reinhardt and pushed out forced laughs at his ridiculous jokes, each one lamer than the next in an attempt to see you crack a real smile. In his own way, he truly tried to show he cared, even if that meant talking about himself for almost two hours after you’d finished your plate and he told his stories as he stood in the kitchen bumping into his fridge with big hand movements. He did get you to actually smile when he talked about Ana. Those were the stories you liked better than the same ones about the war and more tales of honor, his stories of Ana were sweet. She seemed to bring out a hopeless romantic side of him that you would have never expected, and that is what made you smile. 

When you left his room he sent you with a care package of leftovers from dinner and tiny German sweets he warned 'would you give you a cavity if you ate too slow'. You thanked him for his hospitality and for helping a friend who needed it and before you parted he cupped your hands holding the leftovers in his and he told you that you were always welcome to join him.  

When you got to the elevator you almost pressed the floor for Blackwatch, hesitating when you found the idea of returning to Gabe’s room was making the food in your stomach turn over.

You didn’t want to go to your room either, too cold and too empty you didn't feel like being completely isolated.

So, you stared at the button for Morrison’s floor for so long the doors shut and you were left only with your gripping reflections on the walls until you held your breath and pushed it.

You clicked on the lights in his room and slid your leftovers to the top shelf of Morrison’s fridge.

His room was perfectly clean and as perfectly boring as ever. Your eyes scanned everything in the living room, taking it all in as if you were seeing it for the first time. You let your feet wander, fingertips gliding along the edge of his low bookshelf with almost no books on it, along the counter in his kitchen where he’d made you countless meals and over the table you sat at when you decided maybe he wasn’t so bad. You missed the way he held you late at night after you accidentally fell asleep next to him on the couch. You missed the teasing little threats he'd made about putting you back on trash duty if you didn't come to bed with him. You missed spooning him and waking up to his kind eyes already greeting you before your alarm went off.  

You needed sleep, you need to wash the taste of forest fire from your mouth and get uninterrupted rest. 

You almost collapsed when you clicked on his bedroom light.

There, sitting patiently in the silence of his room on the pillow waiting of your side of his bed was a bag of gummy bears.

That was it.

That was your breaking point.

You fell against the side of the bed and let out horrible ugly sobs as you clutched the bag at your chest. It was such a small thing, but he knew you and he knew you’d seek him out even when he wasn’t there. God you wanted him here so bad. You wanted to tell him everything and run away to Indiana to that farm house of his and live a normal life and be normal people and not have to worry about super soldiers or Talon leaders or loud mouthed directors. You buried your face into his sheets hoping to muffle the awful cries. There was something so visceral and wrenching about letting everything finally explode from your chest, you were squishing the bag but you didn’t care because you held it the way you wished you were holding Morrison and it just hurt so fucking much that he had given you nothing but love and you’d cracked the foundations of trust he had in you.

You cried so long that the front of your pullover was tear stained, that the whites of your eyes had turned a vivid red and your face swollen from twisting in such pained ways.

Your chest was tight and body a tensing mess as you rolled across his bed and back to your feet with shaking breaths. Your head was pounding but at least the taste of smoke was replaced by salted tears. 

Everything felt disorienting and you stared at the smushed faces of gummy bears who didn't deserve the punishment you brought on them, and you knew you heard your phone buzzing in your pocket.

“Hi.” You said small and trying to clear the mucus from your throat.  

“Hey sweetheart.” Morrison sighed into the phone. “Gérard just gave me a call... ” His voice tapered off and you were struck with the memory of a gentle reminder Gérard gave you months ago telling you his bed was on the other side of the wall from Morrison’s, and that he’d appreciate it if you both kept the noise to a minimum after 11pm. He must have heard your gross sobbing and you weren't sure if you were more embarrassed that he heard you, or more embarrassed that he felt like he needed to call Morrison instead of just coming over to tell you to shut up.

“I-” You almost fell into a slippery slope of spilling your secrets. Instead, you bit a curled finger between your teeth and held back every flooding emotion in your throat. “I just had a really bad day.” Your voice skipped and you were sure the waterworks would start again if you weren’t so absolutely dehydrated and exhausted.

"Take a breath, it's okay." His voice was so gentle it almost hurt. "I'm sorry it was bad. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." You gasped through a dry sob and stared down at the bag in your hands. “Thank you for the gummy bears, Jack. I love them.” You choked out after a few moments of trying to calm yourself down to a normal breathing pattern again.

“I’ll buy out every bag in the whole country if it would stop you from crying.” He tacked on a sad laugh at the end and you shook your head with a small smile knowing he might actually try to.

“All I need is to see you again. I know you needed space, and I completely understand why, but I miss you so fucking much. I really wish you were here right now.”

“I miss you, too.” He let out a heavy breath. “I hated being away from you, even though it was the right thing to do. We're going to have to work on some things when I get back, but I can't wait to hold you in my arms again.”

“When am I going to see you?" You laid yourself back across his bed, staring up at the darkness to his ceiling. 

“Soon. We’re wrapping things up here, but I think my flight in will make me late for the charity event. I'll keep you updated on it, but I can’t wait to see you all dressed up. Gabe thinks I might have a heart attack when I see you.”

“I bet you won’t look half bad all done up in a suit.” You heard him stifle a chuckle on the other end. This felt so much better than crying to an empty room. Even though you both spoke with words laced in hurt, you’d take normal conversation over wet eyes and blurted apologizes any time.

You asked him about London and the fall out from the omnic fighting and it sounded like an absolute mess. The public was fuming, officials and civilians alike calling on Overwatch as an aggressor in the fight, news stories claiming that while they didn't start the fighting, Overwatch had no place to step in and take control the way they did. He sounded so tired, he was being pulled in a million different directions because of all this and you couldn't pile onto it. So you lied through your teeth when he asked about the mission you went on the day before, you made up a boring story that no one would be able to challenge you on and you held a fist to your stomach hoping the guilt wouldn't make you sick. 

You watched the minutes tick by on the call until it was well over an hour and he sighed into the receiver.

"I have to head back out there now. Try to get some rest okay? I love you so much." 

"I love you too, Jack. I'll see you soon."

* * *

"How's the... you know?" Gabe pointed at your side where the now healing bullet wound was. 

"I'll survive." Play it off. Play it cool. Pretend like it still hurts. You grabbed at your side and chewed the corner of your lip. “We need to focus.” You leaned against Gabe's desk and ignored the skeptical look he was giving you as he pulled up seemingly endless documents and pictures. “I need to know everything, run me through it.”

If you were going to work with him to take down a massive terrorist organization behind the backs of Overwatch and Blackwatch officials, you needed to know exactly what you were going into. 

“While your systems work on unscrambling their encrypted data I can go over some of the higher level stuff. Talon operates based on anonymity, agents are expected to address each other by their ID numbers rather than their names. Their higher officials are only seen wearing masks and going by monikers and it appears many of their field agents do not actually know who they are working for. However, their so-called 'high counsel' appears to know each other's identities. After the _unfortunate_ absence of Antonio it seems Talon took a hit in terms of leadership. There’s five different sectors of the organization. This one is Akinjide Adeyemi, he’s the head of their combat operations. Currently he’s going by the name ‘Doomfist’.” He flipped a picture for you to see and you studied a curious image of a man scowling at a security camera, one arm decked out in heavy armor. “His second in command is Akande Ogundimu, we’ll want to keep an eye on him. With Antonio’s demise I think he’s likely the next in line to take his place.”

“Do you think there's a fight for power right now?”

“I think so. There seems to be a lot of internal discourse about who deserves to be in charge. Antonio handled the business side of things, arms deals, property purchases, that kind of stuff, and the temporary placement has been met with a lot of backlash.”

“Who do they have filling in for him now?”

“An American business woman named Cora Booker. From the communications we were able to decode it seems many of the other leaders do not believe in her ability to close deals.”  

“If they already don't have faith in her, we should focus our take downs on the other heads first then." You wrote side notes on the document he had open before lifting your head back to his eyes. "What about the other branches?”

“Heading up the technology and communications is Nachiket Korpal, the current head of a tech corporation in India called Vishkar Corporation." Gabe was making this face, like he smelled something bad and he pushed against the screens just a little too hard. "The thing that disturbs me most about this one is Overwatch is contracted with them, they’re building some of our worker bots.”

“So we could already be compromised?” You stood, crossing your arms and furrowing brows at him. This was big. 

“Yes, we could be. This is Gérard’s main focus right now, he’s been investigating each case of their technology in our systems and we’re guessing that’s why he’s had so many ‘convenient accidents’ lately. Our suspension is someone knows he’s sniffing around about this and is trying to stop him from digging too deep.”   

“Jesus. Does Morrison know about any of this?”

“Not yet. We need to bring him hard proof, otherwise there’s nothing he can do. Right now it's just a gut feeling which wouldn't bode well with the directors.” His face scrunched together as he flicked to other documents.  

Gabe scrolled through articles and pictures until he reached an image of an incredibly striking man. Dark eyes and a rounded jaw, staring back at you in the image was a man with thick golden orange hair around his mouth in a goatee and matching hair on the top of his head shaved down showing off a wicked scar from his ear to the top curve of his head. Information to the side of his picture gave you basic details of his height and weight but what struck you was how absolutely massive he was, he was taller and heavier than Morrison or Gabe, just about as tall as Moira if you had to guess and he built like a house.

“That’s a scary looking guy.” You raised your eyebrows at Gabe.

“That is Cornelius Tishler.” The one he was chasing before and got the road rash from on his hip, you caught yourself glancing to the way Gabe turned his side away from you. “He's a freak. Son of two brilliant scientists, mom was gene therapy researcher from a lab in South Korea that got shut down for modifying genes in women's wombs against their will and dad was a chemical engineer making biobombs for the Scottish infantry. He's brilliant, but he's insane. Technically, he heads the scientific research and medical branch of Talon, but he’s more focused on getting people than he is on experimenting on them. He's a glorified human trafficker.”  

“Fuck.” You breathed out.

“He’s protected at all times and difficult to track. Only uses burner phones, pays only in cash, he’s elusive.”

“We’ll get him.” You said maybe more confidently than you should have, you weren't even sure if you actually wanted that- he looked like he would tear you to pieces. 

“All we know about the last branch is that they have high influence over Talon's relationships with country officials. Whoever this person is seems to have connections all across the globe to skirt around legal and social issues. Once we start getting through the encrypted data, I'm hoping we can find a name or a title or anything that can help us pin this one down." He knew so much of this already and had been just keeping it bottled up. The way he spoke about it was as if he'd been holding it all in as one held breath for much too long and he sank to his own chair across the desk from you as he looked through everything open again.   

“This is a lot Gabe. Too much for one person to handle, it’s no wonder you’ve been so burned out recently.” You grabbed your own screen and dropped down into a seat across his desk, starting to read over every detail he’d put together so far.

“It’s nice to finally be able to talk about it.” 

You tried to hide a horrible guilt eating away at your core.

It is nice, isn’t it? Would he still think it’s nice if you got what you needed to talk about off your chest? If you told him his genes were laced with yours, that there was a reason you were hiding your gunshot wound from him? You buried yourself on the chair and responded with a distracted _mhmm_ before focusing all of your attention to the classified information at your fingertips. 

"There's actually something else I wanted to talk about." Gabe swiped away the files in front of him and looked to you solemnly. You raised an eyebrow and uncurled yourself from the chair. "Just in the last week alone we've had ten more transfer requests. Agents are jumping ship faster than I can stop them and if we keep up this rate Blackwatch isn't going to have anyone by this time next year. We lost so many people when that building went down and, I don't know, I think I'm rambling, but I just wanted to thank you, sincerely, for sticking with Blackwatch. I know it's been a lot to deal with since you're still performing your Overwatch duties too. You need to give yourself a break too sometime, okay? Don't work yourself into the ground like I am." 

"A break sounds nice." You sighed. "Maybe Morrison and I can finally make that trip back to Indiana, we have wall paper waiting for us that we're going to replace next time we get out there." 

"Yeah, you two should do that." Gabe returned to flipping through the files on his desk. "He'd like that." 

* * *

Then it was time to pretend like everything was okay. 

Just for a night you would ignore the soldier enhancement genes intertwined with yours. You would ignore that you almost dropped Jesse to his death. You would ignore the sinking dread of Talon on your tail and the bullet hole at your side. 

Just like he thought, Morrison was going to be late to the event. A little disappointed, but understanding that it was out of his control, you readied yourself alone in your room before heading down to meet Gabe and Jesse in the underground parking garage. Before you whisked yourself away to your own room, you laid out Morrison's suit for him on the bed and the matching blue tie with a little note that reminded him how excited you were to see him. You wore your hair down, just like Gabe suggested, clasped the thin white choker around your neck and checked it from twisting angles in your mirror. You made due with what you had left over in terms of makeup from undercover missions that had been piling in a mostly untouched drawer at your tiny desk. Even though it wasn't much, it was enough to make you smile at yourself in seeing a difference between how you usually looked and how it felt to be playing dress up for a night. 

The dress felt just as elegant as ever. Smooth blue silk fell perfectly in place. If you stood straight and still the dress would settle at the front and no one would know of the sultry cut outs, but as soon as you were walking, or sitting, the center of the dress would flow behind your knees and the cut outs would fall off your thighs and drag behind you exposing a good amount of your legs. You strapped on the bright white shoes and wobbled as you stood trying to get used to the different feeling, wondering if maybe you should have tried to break them in before wearing them all night. Oh well, blisters or not, you were committed to the shoes. Finally you slipped your phone and small assortment of other things for the night into the tiny white hand purse and carefully made your way out the door to the elevator. 

They were waiting for you in the garage already. Gabe and Jesse were matching, fitted in sleek all black suits apart from thin white ties. Gabe had his hair trimmed, not buzzed for once, but the sides shaved and enough length on top for the curls to still be loose. Jesse was sporting a groomed beard and slicked back hair that made him look far more put together than you think you’d ever seen in your life. It made you smile that not only did they match, but they also matched you with the little white accents. It had to be Gabe's doing, you were sure if it was up to Jesse he might have wore jeans. You gave him a look of sympathy looking down at his cast covered in signatures and obscene words. 

“Be still, my beatin’ heart.” Jesse breathed out as he slapped a hand to his chest. You rolled your eyes and smoothed out the front of the dress before he hobbled over to meet you on his crutches. Behind him Gabe stood smiling like a fool and covering his mouth. “I can see now why Gabe was gettin’ all flustered when I asked him ‘bout what you chose. You look drop dead gorgeous, sunshine.”  

“Thanks, Jesse. I guess you look okay.” You laughed and he pinched his face as he stuck out his tongue just to be a brat, which prompted you to do the same.

“If you two are done messing around, we should get going.”

“You look great too, Gabe.” You smiled at him and he shifted his weight before failing to hide a smile and nodding as a thank you.

The three of you piled into the car and you sighed leaning a head on Jesse's shoulder as he sat in the seat next to you. It was a good thing Overwatch provided self driving cars, you were even more thankful this one had seats all facing towards the center. Old vehicles just felt so impersonal. Here in this one you could sit next to Jesse and he could stretch out his cast leg, Gabe could sit across from you with arms folded typing away at his phone and chuckling at you and Jesse debating who would get drunker and embarrass themselves more. 

The charity was being held in the the largest rooms at an event center that was decorated in glitzy sequins and luxurious ice sculptures waiting in the front lobby. One side of the building hosted rows and rows and long tables displaying lavish items for a silent auction, the other side a large stage surrounded by lines of round tables all decorated with oversized flower centerpieces and pearls dripping from the petals. The decor oozed of opulence that you couldn't afford and the room was buzzing with low music mixing with voices of Overwatch officials, media personalities, foreign diplomats, everyone here seemed to be someone important and you felt completely out of place.    

And then you spotted him. With every petty bone in your body you b-lined straight for the table Petras sat alone at, Gabe and Jesse at your heels wondering where you were suddenly off to. Your commander blue dress fluttered behind you like the tails of a cape and a wicked smile spread across your face.

Here before you was the perfect emotional punching bag.  

“These empty?” You asked him, pointing at two chairs next to him. He looked shocked to see you in person and all you could do was stare at his big bushy black eyebrows twisted above his beady eyes that you'd never quite paid attention to in pictures of him before.

“No, they’re-” He was obviously flustered, words sputtering out at your unexpected approach. 

“Great!” You ignored him and sat at the closest chair to his, setting your thin white purse in Morrison’s place until he got there.

You faced Petras, legs out to the side of the chair as you sat, twisting them over each other and leaning forward on the table towards the lone director. The high cuts in the skirt of your dress rode even further and rested at the height of your thigh making the director go tight lipped and forcing his eyes to focus hard on your face, you made sure your scarred arm was front and center for him as you spoke. From the corner of your eye you could see Gabe and Jesse hurriedly stealing the seats at the next table over, wanting to be far enough away not to intrude, but close enough to hear you. 

“So, Director Petras, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.” You held a hand out to shake his but quickly pulled away before he could touch it with a fake concerned face. “No plus one tonight?”

“My partner is on a humanitarian mission in Russia-”

“That’s too bad. Well, it looks like I'm alone for now too, Jack should be joining us later in the night. Until then, I don’t mind keeping you company. I think we have a lot to talk about.” You could see now why he was always on the phone yelling at Morrison. He was clearly trying to compensate for something. Petras was an ugly little man. Even sitting, you could see her was barely 5 feet tall and the suit he wore couldn’t hide a beer belly pouring over the front of his belt. He was already red in the face and looked like he was on the brink of steam coming out of his ears but you smiled at him and waved over a sharply dressed server.

"We should toast on our new found friendship." You placed a hard hand against his shoulder as he turned to the server and Petras opened his dumb mouth to order a drink for himself.

"A white wine-" 

“Two whiskey sours, please.” With the sweetest smile you could muster you turned to him and at your side you could see Jesse and Gabe covering their mouths and stifling laughter. "So tell me, sir, is there anything you do all day besides just scream obscenities and insults into the phone, or do you actually have a job over there in your cushy home office?" 

“You’ve got a lot of nerve speaking to a director this way."

"You've got a lot of nerve for pushing on your commanders the way you do. It must be nice not have to face the real consequences of being face to face with someone you're screaming at." 

"Jack is an adult, he doesn't need you to fight for him." He snarled at you. 

"He doesn't, but I'd sure love to see you try to fight him." You laughed to yourself. "Now that would be something, I bet you don't even know the first thing about combat, do you?" Suddenly you were aware how close you were leaning to him and that your own lip was curled in anger. Apparently you were going straight for the throat tonight. 

"Enough to know when someone is looking for a fight. Back away from me." 

You weren't going to, but the speaker on stage greeted everyone in a chipper omnic voice and you drew yourself back as attention turned to the stage. With a bright voice the speaker went on and on with a long welcome that introduced the silent auction items, announced the food was now being served, and that the main bid for big ticket items would start in just about an hour. The speaker gleefully announced after the auctions would be dancing, including a sponsored charity dance, and photo opportunities before they wrapped up for the night. During the speech you leaned back in your chair and angrily chugged the drink when the server dropped it off.  

Once the speech was over Petras turned back to the table and to you circling ice in an otherwise empty cup. He reached for the whiskey sour that sat in front of him and, you just couldn't help yourself, you grabbed it before he could and locked eyes with his the whole drink down. 

"I’m going to be doing everything in my power to get you out of Overwatch for your terrible attitude.” Cute. It was so easy to get him riled up. You couldn't wait to see how he reacted when Morrison got here and you upped the ante. 

“Ha!” You let out a hard belly laugh and lifted your glass in a mocking cheers before placing the empty drink back hard against the table. “You’ve read my contract, _director_ , I’d love to see you try.” 

At your side you saw Gabe shift in his seat. You glanced to him before leaning back towards the director.

Fuck this guy. You were over it. Over his shitty attitude and over the dull aching of a bullet wound healing at your side. 

“Do you know what I do at Overwatch, sir? I can get into anything. Doors. Computers. Phones. I can see your whole life if I want to. What do you think I’d find if I tapped into you, hmm? Anything interesting?”

“Are you threatening me?” His voice was low and by the way that he scooted forward, you got a feeling he definitely had something to hide.

“I’m just giving you a job description.” You laughed and leaned back in your chair, rolling your arm over the back to stretch out. “Now, listen to me. Lay off Morrison. The calls and the emails and the threats are getting old and he already has enough going on that needs to worry about. He doesn’t need you on his ass all the time and I don't appreciate the extra layer of shit you're already piling onto his busy days.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job.”

“Your job isn’t to sit around and scream at commanders on the phone all day. If you did your job right I wouldn't have any complaints. If you retaliate for my behavior tonight and take any action against Jack, you can bet I’ll be working very close with the internal review board for unfair treatment, I'll break the ethics code of Overwatch, I'll break the fucking law if I have to, to make sure you're knocked down a peg. I’m sick of your shit, Petras. You're a pig who has no respect and doesn't deserve any.”  

In a stare off you could see Gabe rising in your peripherals at the other table reaching out towards you. You kept your unwavering gaze in Petras's eyes, solidifying the fact that you can, and would, do anything to take him down if he tried to start anything. 

"Director Petras, a pleasure seeing you here. I think we lost track of this agent, maybe it's best if we brought her to our own table?" Gabe was holding the side of your shoulder just above where the sleeves of the dress fell, using a voice that sounded faker than the smile you had on your face. He helped you to your feet, steadying you on your heels before you snatched your purse away and tucked it at your arm. As soon as you were standing Gabe leaned right against your ear. "You need to cool it. We're taking a walk."   

He lead you away to the food stations grabbing two plates, one for him and one for Jesse. You grabbed one of them from his hands and started throwing anything you could reach on it. 

"I'll get Jesse's. You didn't have to pull me away, Gabe. I was fine." You scowled over tiny potato appetizers. 

"You won't be when Petras decides to move one of you to the Colorado base permanently. I know you don't like the guy, but think before you threaten the director of Overwatch." He was placing the food on his plate haphazardly as he scolded back at you. You turned a cold shoulder to him and hobbled over the next station piling foods you knew Jesse would eat. You weren't hungry. You were just mad. You were mad at Petras, you were mad at the lead that left a stinging at your side, you were mad that you broke Jesse's leg. May this wasn't a good idea. You felt like you wanted to start a screaming match with someone for no reason, like you wanted to shoulder check someone just to watch them drop their plate and spill their food.    

"Gee, thanks." Jesse sarcastically said to you as you practically slammed his plate in front of him and some of his food spilled over the side onto an expensive looking tablecloth. "Petras really got you all riled up?" 

"It's just been a rough couple of days Jesse." You plopped into the seat next to him and stretched out your legs under the table, twisting your already sore ankles in tiny circles. You wished Morrison was here already. He'd lean over with that stupid smirk of his and kiss the skin on your shoulder and offer to massage your ankles. 

"Yeah, well join the club." He shoveled his food into his mouth and looked at you under dropped eyebrows. His eyes snapped behind you and he cleared his throat before speaking again. "Oh, hey commander."  

You turned so quickly you cracked your back, too excited to see Morrison you were immediately met with an air of disappointment when you found the genuinely happy face of Commander Lacroix and his wife at his arm.  

"Good evening everyone." He was beaming. You hadn't seen him smiling in a while, mostly it's been bruised body parts and sleepless eyes after failed attempts on his life. "I believe you've all met my wife, no?" 

"I hope you're doing well, Amélie." Gabe nodded her way and she giggled out at him.

"Always, I hope the same for you Commander Reyes." She held her head high when she spoke, leaving a trace of a smile on her face. "Good evening, agent McCree." 

"Evenin'." He responded before continuing to pile food in his mouth. 

"I believe we met very briefly while Gérard was still in the hospital." She bent forward and kissed the sides of each cheek. "Gérard has said many amazing things about the work you do, it is nice to finally have a proper introduction." 

"Aww, Commander Lacroix, I didn't know you bragged about me to your wife. If I had known that, I would actually put some effort into the work I do." You playfully hit the side of his arm which made him chuckle.

"Don't get ahead of yourself now, bragging is an extreme word." He looked to his wife and you could have just melted from the love shared between their eyes. God, all it did was make you wish Morrison was at your side. "We are going to take a look at some of the auction items, may we leave our things at your table?" Everyone nodded and they took two open seats opposite of you before walking away, her arm in his, laughing at a joke among themselves.

"She's gorgeous." You leaned against Jesse. "How in the world did a guy like Lacroix end up with a woman like that?" You were only half joking, but part of you was genuinely curious. 

"They met during a performance, believe it or not, Gérard used to be a professional ballet dancer." Gabe said casually as if that wouldn't shock either of you. Jesse almost spit out his food and you each stared open mouthed at Gabe. "What? Did neither of you ever wonder why he doesn't do combat? Got injured while he was dancing, so he can't put any excessive force on his legs now." 

You stared back at the happy couple picturing the commander all in tights and lifting his wife over his head under a spotlight. Suddenly your anger felt a little more mixed with sadness. That kind of love was so nice. It made sense now why he always seemed so eager to fly back to France, even if it meant he was only there for a night, just to watch her perform.  

The big ticket item auction started on the stage and you were left sitting bored out of your skull on your third drink as the wealthy people around you bid on things no one would ever need. It felt a little better at least knowing the money was for a good cause, but still, such huge amounts made your head hurt and after a while of pounding drinks on an empty stomach, you suddenly felt very warm and very vulnerable.

The speaker's chipper voice rang over speakers announcing dancing was starting and you groaned into your hands wondering if Morrison was even going to make it at all, the night was practically almost over. Jesse had managed to get up on his crutches and wander to the bathroom and you were left alone at the table with Gabe. The music was too loud to even attempt to talk at a normal level so you stole Jesse's seat and asked him if he ended up bidding on anything. 

"A couple things. I doubt I won any though, there's some crazy rich people here." He laughed as he eyed a perfectly timed example of a woman in a dramatic fur coat gliding to the dance floor as it shrugged at her shoulders.

You laughed with him until the guilt of keeping such a huge secret from him, or maybe the alcohol you weren't sure which, was turning your stomach over. You had to tell him. Of everyone, he was the most involved, the only one that would fully understand the weight of it all, and that wasn't something you could keep from him without your insides eating you alive for very much longer. 

"Gabe?" Your hand landed on the back of his chair, fingers gliding across the smooth fabric on the back of his suit jacket. He turned with a curious look. "There's something I need to tell you."

You shouldn't have a said that. Quickly, you needed to swallow your guilt just like you swallowed those drinks. You couldn't tell him here. Not when you weren’t sure what kind of reaction he’d have to hearing you've been behind his back with Moira this whole time, not when he finds out it was his super soldier genes that gave you a second life. His face grew from curiousness to fear as he waited for you to continue, but you couldn't. He reached for your hand resting on the table, fingers squeezing around yours and he moved his face to follow your gaze so you couldn't look away. He froze and squeezed again, this time a little harder which got you to finally purposefully look to him.  

"I hear you've been causing some trouble here without me." _Jack_. It felt like your whole body sighed and you turned to meet the voice behind you. 

"Hi." You breathed out, shooting up from your chair and twirling around until you faced him. He grabbed at your hands and held them away from your body so he could see the whole dress. He was already blushing, pink spreading across his cheeks to his ears and he was trying so hard to stop the biggest smile from spreading beneath a bit lip. You shook your hips just a little to show of the high cuts and his eyes burned as he stared at the way your thighs pushed through. His arms quickly moved to circle at your waist and he lifted you to his height, pressing his lips against your jaw as he spoke for only you to hear. 

"Let's leave right now." Always so impatient. You giggled and squeezed your arms around his shoulders before he placed you back on the ground. 

"I've missed you so much, Jack." Your hands fell to cup his cheeks and his expression shifted from unbridled lust to such a soft smile. 

"Me too. Thank you for being so patient with me. I know it was hard." His hand traced down your jaw and his thumb ran against the bottom of your lip. "You look breathtaking." 

"You look pretty damn good yourself." The fitted black suit with the white shirt and the bright blue tie, it was classic but it looked so good on him. Part of you wanted to rip that jacket off his shoulders and make him roll up his shirt sleeves as you undid his tie and have him take you right there on that damn table, but you needed to make it through the rest of the night before you started wandering off in drunken fantasies of him. 

You nuzzled your face down against his hand and kissed at his fingers. He chuckled and slipped the hand over your neck and into your hair and he kissed you so deep you thought you'd get lost. Somewhere behind you, Petras was loudly clearing his throat and this only made Morrison smile against your lips and hold you tighter, bringing you into a lower dip and make a show of it. 

"Anywhere quiet around here we can go and talk?" He asked against your lips.

"Just talk?" You moved to breathe against his ear, you didn't just want to talk.

"Just talk." His face was suddenly serious and you drew back from him as you dropped your hands back into his and turned to lead him out to someplace quieter. "We'll be back in a minute, Gabe. Looking good." Morrison had a smile on his voice and you rolled your eyes as he fired fingers guns off at him. 

The two of you tucked away side by side on an ugly little bench in the quiet of a hallway that must have led to administrative offices for the building. One hand held yours, the other touched the height of your thigh and drew tiny figure eights on your skin with his fingertips.    

"I'm sorry, Jack." You were the first to speak. "I definitely took advantage of my knowledge that you've been lenient with me and the things I can get away with because we're together. I should have never agreed to go to Null Sector, it was completely out of line and it wasn't just me that paid the price for it." You held his hand just a little tighter. 

"I'm sorry too." He breathed out as he turned to look at you. "My reaction was a little overboard. Thank you for giving me the space I needed to step back and really look everything. I want you to know that no matter what, I don't want to go through that again. Even if I'm mad at you, I think I'd rather have you with me so I can at least remind myself that we're a team, that we're in this together and that we can work on it. I'll put you back on combats, but we'll need to rebuild that trust again. You can't go dark on missions anymore, okay? Not even Blackwatch ones. Promise me."

"I promise." Your pulse was racing. Could you promise that? "Can I ask you for something?" You chewed at your lip, too buzzed and nervous you were going to spill your secrets. 

"Anything." 

"When we get back to your room I want you to fuck me the moment we get in. I've been so lonely without you, Jack." You watched his face burn red at your sudden blunt request, usually you were a little more sly about your advances- not tonight, tonight you didn't care how he took you, you just needed him as soon as you could get him. He laughed and nodded his head.

"I'd leave with you over my shoulder right now if I wasn't obligated to shake a few hands here tonight." You smiled, leaning forward and placing a kiss on his arm. "Also, I know this is a small thing, but why do you call it my room? You sleep there too." 

You snapped up to look at him in confusion. 

"I only have two drawers up there, all of my other stuff is still in my room on the captain's hall." 

"Let's fix that. It's our room. Our bed. Not mine." His hand cupped your cheek and he brought your head down do he could kiss your forehead. "I love you. Even if you scare the shit out me sometimes, I love you so much. Come on-" He stood, pulling your arms up with him and lacing fingers between yours to lead you back to the event. "Let's make out on the dance floor next to Petras to piss him off." 

God, you loved that man.  

You spent the rest of the evening mostly on the dance floor. Jesse insisted on being your first dance by pulling the woe-is-me-I'm-so-injured card as each of your commanders rolled their eyes and talked at the edge of the dance floor. It felt weird to let loose the way you did with Jesse, bouncing to a old pop song as you swung your hair behind you and shook your shoulders, he tried (failed) to show you his square dancing skills and you don't know why he even tried with the cast on. The song transitioned to a slow jam and Jesse dramatically leaned in to hold you like a gentleman which made Morrison quickly jump in to take his place. When you weren't dancing with Morrison he was meeting press and diplomats who questioned him nonstop about recent events and you tried to dull out the noise. 

When you weren't dancing, you found your favorite ballet couple and grabbed them for a big group photo. The Lacroix's stood on the end of the group, Amélie turned to the side partially showing off the dramatic low back of her dress as she held Gérard's hands in front of him. Gabe stood between Gérard and Morrison, hands on each of their shoulders and a big grin. Morrison had his arm wrapped around your waist and on the other side of you Jesse was leaned against your shoulder, face blushing from a drink too many and his arm wrapped loosely at your shoulders. You all ooh'd and aww'd at how happy everyone looked in the final result, the omnic photographer printed out three copies. 

"One for each of the happy couples!" It exclaimed and you laughed when you realized it thought you were Jesse's date and Gabe was Morrison's.

The Lacroix's offered you a swift and warm goodbye, and you wished them goodnight and safe travels as they were to head back to France in the morning. Jesse pulled at your arms trying to convince you to get another picture done of 'just the family' which you finally relented to when he said he'd buy you lunch for a week. Your second picture that night was Gabe on one end, you on the other and Jesse between, all of you red faced and sweaty after partying so long. You squished your cheek against Jesse's as the camera clicked to Gabe pretending to roll his eyes and it made you laugh until your stomach hurt as you looked at it. 

As the night was winding down the DJ announced the remaining songs would be slow ones and Morrison nuzzled his face against the top of your head as you held him close for a few songs. Every few measures he'd lift your face and lower to kiss you as soft as the song was and you'd let his arms keep you up as your body weight fell against his. After a few small circles on the dance floor the crowd was thinning out, across the room Jesse looked like he was napping in a chair, it was getting close to leaving time.  

“Sick of him stepping on your toes yet?” Gabe’s voice was behind you and you heard Morrison laugh as you turned.

“Hey, it’s only been a couple times.” He joked.

“She owes me a dance for picking out the dress, mind if I cut in?”

Morrison parted from you with a soft kiss and a nod to make sure you were okay with it. His hands left your body but you still smiled at him. In seconds Gabe slipped in his place, one hand landing high on your waist and the other holding your hand steady.

“I’m going to head over and schmooze Petras after putting up with her all night, gotta make sure she didn't do too much damage.” Morrison said with a cocky nod your way. “Try not to sweep her off her feet while I’m gone.” He smiled and turned with a silly wink your way that made you want to hide your face in embarrassment. Gabe waited until Morrison was out of earshot and his face fell to concern.

“What was it you needed to tell me?”

“It’s nothing good, Gabe.” You squeezed his hand a little tighter. “I think, right now, I just want to enjoy this moment.”  He stepped just a little closer and dropped your hand, wrapping his arm to your back in a loose hug. You rested your face against his chest and let out a shaky sigh.

“I’m sorry things are messy.” He mumbled out above your ear. It felt like a pin stabbed straight through your heart. He had no idea how much messier it could be. “I promise, we're going to put a stop to the madness. I don't want you getting hurt anymore, I don't think I can live with myself if anything else I do causes you harm. Things will get back to normal soon.”

“It doesn’t feel like anything was ever normal in the first place.” You weren’t sure if he heard you as you spoke against his tie under the loud music and honestly you didn’t care. Life was hard and stupid, but you were just trying to enjoy the night with the people who meant the world to you. His fingers combed through the ends of your hair the same way they would as you laid on his couch after a bad night and you almost felt like crying. He could probably feel your nervous shaking. You wondered if he was thinking about your cries of pain after getting shot, or the sound of exploding static in an ear piece like you were. By the time you looked up the song was different and you had no idea how many had gone by.  

"Come find me in the morning." He paused and you heard Morrison's laugh approaching back. "Or, whenever you're up." 

You nodded and turned to reach out to Morrison as he got to your side. 

"Can I get one last picture? Just the three of us?" You forced a smile back on your face and dragged them each by the hand back to the booth. 

The last picture that night, and in fact, the only picture of the three of you together, was you between them, thighs pushing together and out of the cut outs, long blue falling behind you to the floor. Your arms held each of them at their backs, squeezing them close as their tall frames lingered well above yours. Gabe had his jacket off and a hand holding it slung over his shoulder, but he was smiling and his head was cocked to the side, Morrison with an arm hooked at your neck and hand hanging over your shoulder with that stupid cute little smirk on his lips. You folded up the three copies of the photos you got that night and slipped them into a now dirtied white hand purse and Gabe woke Jesse enough to get him to follow you all to the valet. 

The car ride back to base was quiet. Jesse was passed out cold, face leaned against the window and his breath fogging up the glass. You were curled in Morrison's suit jacket, heels off on the floor and legs over Morrison's lap where he was rubbing small circles in the soles on your tired feet making you smile as you tried to catch a quick nap. You cracked open an eye to see Gabe spacing out as he stared at the spot on your dress where your bullet hole was scabbing over on your skin. You brought Morrison's jacket over the spot and shot Gabe a denying look which made him push out a heavy breath and close his eyes as he leaned his head back against the window. 

Tomorrow it'd be back to work as usual. You'd probably be facing the consequences for mouthing off to Petras, but the prospect of fessing up to Gabe seemed even scarier.  

Gabe helped Jesse to the elevator on base. You walked side by side with Morrison and dangled your shoes in one hand, the other clutching his jacket close to you. On the ride up, he leaned down to give you a gentle kiss and you took the opportunity to bring him into a deeper one. You didn't care that your boys were there to judge you this time, you just wanted Morrison and you weren't going to wait any more to get what you wanted. Your hand on the jacket wandered up Morrison's chest and under the edges of his collar, snaking over his shoulders, round his neck and fingers curling into the base of his stupid blond hair. He kissed you hard and pushed your back against the cold glass of the mirrored walls, one hand dropping over your side and grabbing at your thigh to lift it against him.

"Could you two wait until we're off the elevator at least?" Gabe was shaking his head as he grunted to hold Jesse who, drunk and in a cast, was useless at the moment to back him up. 

"Sorry Gabey, I don't think we can." Morrison teased over his shoulder and suddenly you were very aware of something hard pressed between your legs. He returned to your lips and you accidentally let a little whine sneak past which made you gasp and made your face flush as you avoided Gabe's judgmental stares in the reflections. You bit your lip to stop any other noises escaping from you until Gabe was practically dragging Jesse out onto the Blackwatch floor.

As soon as he was gone and it was just you and Morrison, you both let out nervous laughs and he smiled as he kissed you with a passion that threatened to drown you. By the time the doors opened for your floor you couldn't even hear them. All you knew was Morrison had lifted you and your legs were wrapped at his waist and he was kissing you against his door as you typed in his key code blindly and backwards with your hand. You both came crashing down against the carpet of his room and the door snapped shut behind him. Your blue dress was spilled across the floor beneath you, he was moving as much of it out of the way until he was working fingers against the wet spot on your panties and you were writhing against his hand.  

It felt like your body was on fire. It needed him, you needed him, and you needed him _now_. This had gone on much too long. Too many lonely nights, too many cold mornings. Being separated like that felt like it ripped your heart in two and the only thing piecing it back together were his whispers of affection, his hands slipping beneath the high cuts on the dress, his lips refusing to stop kissing you as you rolled your body against his. His body was almost shaking with excitement as he undid the front of his pants, hips curled above you and pulling away his clothes only enough to free his cock. You moaned into his mouth as you felt a familiar weight heavy against your inner thigh, he was ready to take you now and by the way he was pulsing you think he'd been ready for a while. 

He panted out your name in a way you hadn't heard before and it sent shivers all across your body. 

"I don't know how long I'll be able to last tonight." He was grinding himself between your legs, against your panties and groaning with every pass that made your legs twitch. "I haven't been able to get off since all this started. I've needed you. I need you."

His mouth wandered down to your neck and kissed between little bites that were almost becoming desperate. Impatient hands ripped the panties down your hips and off your legs and he returned with two fingers filling you, immediately curling against your soft spots and making you cry out his name. His other hand pushed the top of your dress down, releasing your chest and his mouth worked on sensitive nipples. He was trying to get you close, trying to get you to his level before he pounded you against the carpet and you were sure it was torture to tease himself like this but you both knew if he wanted to he could make you cum in minutes.    

It wasn't long that he was pumping digits into you that you were shaking with anticipation and almost on the verge of bursting, but you didn't need it to be long. You just needed his touch and that warm feeling that spread across your skin with it. 

When he pushed into you there was a brief moment where your mind went absolutely blank from happiness. Your body remembered every inch of him, stretching and twitching around him, clutching his size and pulling him deeper and deeper until he was buried completely in you and you could finally take a breath again. As soon as you nodded that you were comfortable he slipped both hands into your hair and pressed his forehead to yours, driving into you over and over again to feel you gasping against his lips. He smiled with every moan, every pleading whine from your lungs that encouraged him to go harder, to drive your shoulders into the carpet and make your hair into a horrible mess as it rubbed against the floor. 

He gave you what you wanted. Listening to your body waiting for exactly the right moment to crash his lips back against yours and steal away loud cries of pleasure when you came undone around him. He came with gritted teeth and strained grunting next to your ears that sent prickles of heat over your skin and make you catch your breath. He barely even had to touch you that night, just having him there with you, in you, was enough to send you over the moon and back again until you were a panting shaking mess in a stained blue silk dress on the floor. Afterwards, you could feel the overflow as he pulled himself from you, feel that he'd been pent up for far too long and with that signature commander smirk he stayed hunched over you, kissing at your neck and rubbing playful fingers at your entrance feeling everything spill out of you.

He dropped to an elbow beside you then rolled onto his back and joined with you in staring at the ceiling.   

"Let's make that trip to Indiana." You said between heavy breaths. He smiled at your side and rubbed the back of his hand over his sweat beaded forehead. 

"I'd love to." He dropped the hand heavy at his side and turned to watch you. With blushed cheeks you looked into his eyes and felt your heart jump, you slipped your fingers between his and squeezed.

Even if you were holding in your secrets for now, you'd let yourself have this moment of happiness. 

 

 

 


	31. Après Moi, Le Déluge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week in Paris, and a morning of tears.

Morrison carried your exhausted pleasure wracked body to the bed and set you down in a mess of commander blue against the sheets as he smothered you with kisses, but you were so tired from the party all you could manage out were little giggles.

“As good as you look in this, I think it’s time we got it off you.” He was kissing your neck and you were so distracted at how happy he made your heart, in the dim lighting of his bedroom you didn’t see his face fall after he unzipped the back and slipped the dress off your frame. Your eyes were closed and you were stretching out shoulders that felt almost normal again, but your body almost recoiled in on itself when you felt his fingers touching the round hole at your side. The center was scarred over and the edges bright pink as it healed and you sat up to explain but he sighed and pushed the loose hairs from his face.

“I can’t believe he sent you out there. He knew the dangers, and _still_ he sent you out there.”

Your heart was skipping beats, or maybe it stopped entirely, you couldn’t tell because your chest was so tight. You tried to pretend like you weren’t catching your breath as he shifted on the bed to look at the laceration on your back. He kissed the top of the fading scar and you stared at your hands in your lap with wide eyes terrified he was going to realize the two injuries were unrelated. He sat back down in front of you, fingers lingering over the scabbing wound.

“You should go get this one checked out, it doesn’t look like it’s healing as fast as the one on your back.”

His hands fell to yours and you were shaking from absolute fear. You weren’t going to correct him now. In the long run, maybe it was better if he be blissfully unaware of your little adventure with Gabe. You kissed him and promised you would and he helped you into that thin red shirt of his to sleep in. You promised you'd go to medical the next day, promised again he would know everything you did with Blackwatch, and fell asleep to him wrapping an arm at your waist and curling his body around you.

It took hours for you to finally shut off your mind to get some rest, hours of chewing on your lips wondering how bad the fall out could be if you did just wake him up and tell him everything, wondering how much Gabe would hate you if you told the world of the issues he'd worked so hard to control. You wished you had an off switch for your mind, maybe then it would be easier to live with the guilt of lying like this. 

You woke before the sun did in the morning.

Morrison slept with worry still across his face, you left a small kiss on his cheek before slipping out of the sheets and into the kitchen to fix a breakfast for him. You tried to be quiet, carefully pulling pots and pans out from the cabinets, silently picking your ingredients from the fridge- you wanted him to sleep for as long as he needed.

He stirred in the room as you were about halfway through cooking. You set the burners to low and tiptoed back in to him, crouching next to the bed to see if he was actually awake yet or just shifting in his sleep. As you got face level with him you saw one eye was peeking open and a stupid smile spread across his lips. 

"Smells good out there." He said with a cracking morning voice and you pressed your lips to his as you held his chin. 

"If you stay here I'll bring you breakfast in bed." You responded, lips still against his. You felt that smile of his turn into a wicked smirk. 

"I know exactly what I want for breakfast." He moved too quick for the mornings, arms wrapping at your hips and twisting you onto the bed. Fingers hooked into the edge of your panties and pulled down as you whined at the lame one liner and looked out to your food simmering in the kitchen. His face was between your legs before you were even sighing his name, broad shoulders pushing beneath your thighs so your knees hooked around him and he could hold your hips in place. 

"Jack- Ah-" You breathed out as his tongue introduced itself to you again. He was so warm against you, every flick of his tongue over your clit was sending twitches of heat under your skin and making your head light. You were trying to protest so you could get back to the breakfast you were trying to cook to make up for being so cruel to him, but nothing felt as good as his smile did. "Oh god, I missed this so much." You sighed and slipped fingers into messy blond hair. 

His tongue ran between your folds, tasting and taking in every moment of you. He wanted to live here forever, making you squirm and arch your back and beg for him to fill you. He loved the feeling of your bundle of nerves swelling against his taste buds as he circled it over and over and over again until your legs were shaking and you were sinking nails into your own skin trying to hold in beautiful little gasps. 

He loved the throaty noises you made when he buried fingers in you. Your whole body would tense and your thighs around his head would tighten and he just loved getting to feel the reactions to the way he handled you. His fingers curled and pushed against sensitive walls as he sucked over your clit. You were getting close, he could feel the deep pulses in your body quickening, but he wasn't done with you yet. 

With a moaning whine from your lips, his fingers left you empty and his face lifted, happy smirk covered in your wet and he was licking his lips to keep the taste of you on his mouth. His cheeks were sporting their happy pink as he manhandled you further up the bed, flipping you over on your stomach. 

"Did you touch yourself while I was away?" His voice was low and he was grinding his cock along your ass making your body shake in anticipation.

"Wouldn't you like to know." You teased, gripping into the sheets. His response was a hard tip pushing past your entrance before immediately pulling out, denying you want you wanted. You groaned into the sheets, rolling your face as you pushed your hips back towards him. "Don't be mean." You begged. "I'll tell you if you make me scream." 

He took you up on that challenge. For a few moments you were breathless as he pushed into you, so big and so _perfect_ , he pushed against every nerve that made you shake and moan back against him. His knees parted just a bit and he lifted your hips into the air until you weren't supporting your weight and he was completely in control using your hips as handles to fuck you as he pleased. You couldn't control the obnoxiously loud moans from your throat or the beginnings of happy squeals as he built you up and pounded into you at a hard rapid pace. 

"I tried, but nothing can make me feel the way you do." You said, mouth partially open against his sheets. "Ah- Fuck! I was thinking about-" You couldn't finish the sentence, the way he was moving was riding right over a spot of heightened nerves against your walls and your mind was going blank.     

He circled a hand around your hip and pressed rough fingertips to your clit drawing out moaning screams with the shaking fingers. You heard him chuckle behind you, happy that he was seeing you come undone like this and you decided to show him what you'd been thinking about before he got himself too carried away.  

“Jack?” You panted out over your shoulder. Face pressing against the bed you twisted your arm behind you, running your hand along his hard muscle then turning to slide up slowly between your cheeks. His pace slowed as he watched you circling a testing finger at the ring of muscle he’d eyed for so long but never pushed you on.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He snapped into you harder making you gasp, but you continued with the finger still spreading your slick against the hole.

“Well, your birthday is coming up and we’ll be all alone in Indiana. I was thinking we could try something new.” You could feel him swell in you, _someone_ liked the idea of that. His hips were moving shallowly in you now, eyes completely absorbed of the view in front of him. “But, since it's _your_ birthday I thought I'd leave it up to you whose ass to rail first. Mine, or yours.” You chuckled knowing that would catch him off guard.

He hunched over you, practically falling on you in a fit of nervous laughter but you could feel exactly what suggesting that did to him. Your arm behind you swung back to the bed to keep you steady and his chest pressed against your back heaving with heavy breaths. In you, his cock twitched and pulsed and you could tell he was holding back a release that almost came on spontaneously.

“Are you trying to tell me you’d peg me?” His voice was right against your ear. He drove into you again and you moaned hard against the blanket with a devilish smile.

“If you wanted me to.” Everything you said was coming out too breathy. Heat was threatening in your core, burning at your skin and begging to be released and you weren’t sure how much longer you could just lay here pressed against the bed squeezing around him and begging for more. He growled against your ear and you couldn’t help the overwhelming spikes of need that shot through your veins.

“You’ve been having some dirty thoughts without me around, it seems.” He pushed himself back to his upright stance, hands wandering your hips, fingers grabbing and digging in as he picked up his pace again. One hand slid over your ass, fingers teasing towards your unused hole. “Can I…?”

“Please-” You sighed out and pushed your hips back harder against him. _Yes, please._ You just wanted him to touch you, to explore every part of your body, you wanted to give everything to him.

He started with his pinkie, hoping it wouldn't be too much with his big hands. He was shy about it, gentle and teasing as he only circled a fingertip against you before pushing and opening just enough to get the end of the finger in. He could feel how tight you were around him, the muscle pulsing at the new feeling. As the finger slowly pushed deeper he rubbed his other hand against the small of your back. He slowly sank in until you were burying your face against the blankets and rolling your hips back against him. It was a weird feeling, your body was telling you he shouldn't be there but it was sending your mind into overdrive and the thought of taking his cock there made your cheeks burn. He kept the pinkie hooked in you and picked up his pace again. 

"How's it feel?" There was a smile on his voice. He loved this. 

"Strange." You panted back out at him. He pressed the digit down against your inner wall and you could feel the intense pressure between his finger and his cock ramming into you and a ripping moan escaped you. "That- that feels good." You moaned. It felt like you were melting. His pinkie twisted and he slowly started moving it in time with his cock. "Fuck, Jack- I'm not- I'm going to- I-" 

You knew you were on the edge, but how quickly that pushed you over astonished you. He seemed to know damn well that you'd have a big shaking reaction to it and the hand previously on your back was now circled to your stomach keeping you up so he could ride through his own orgasm with you. As the heat at your core ripped through your body and spread across your skin with pulses of overwhelming pleasure in your stomach, Morrison released himself in you with groans deep in his chest and a head thrown back, one finger buried in your ass, cock buried deep and releasing against needy twitching walls. 

He was careful pulling the finger from you, placing gentle kisses along your back on your shoulder blades and helping you lower your hips to the mattress as he pulled out.

"Jack?" You mumbled, face buried partially in bunched blankets. 

"Hmm?" He sat back on his heels behind you, eyes memorizing the mess he made between your legs as his cum slowly spilled from you. 

"I'm pretty sure breakfast is burning." 

You felt him move suddenly, his head snapping towards the kitchen where all at once the smell hit him and he went scrambling off the bed. He was hiding a smile from you as you gave him a teasing glare for ruining your plan, but this was almost better than anything you would have made him. Just in the other room you heard him making unsure noises before calling out to you. 

"I think maybe we should head to commissary for breakfast." He was laughing and you were sure he found a horror show of food burning into the bottom of a pan after being left there for so long. 

"You would degrade yourself and eat among us common folk at the commissary?" You faked surprise as you finally had the strength to push yourself up and head towards the bathroom to get cleaned up. 

"Hey, I've eaten enough MREs in my day to deserve home cooked meals everyday." He turned off the burner and set the pan aside to join you in the shower, much to your dismay since he would hog all the water. 

* * *

There were plenty of double takes and stares when the Strike Commander was in line for breakfast at the commissary. He only had on his under armor clothes, the black uniform shirt and dark blue uniform pants that everyone else wore, but his tall frame and his striking blond hair seemed to still draw the attention of the room as he sat across from you in one at one of the tables. You let your hair fall down, still drying from the shower and a smile on your face as you ate with him and joked with him about the way you spoke to Petras the night before.

Halfway through your meal and almost halfway to forgetting the scabbed wound at your side, Genji and Dr. Ziegler walked in together and you almost screamed. She was fussing with an armor plate on his mechanical arm and briefly you didn't even recognize it was Genji that walked at her side. The clunky tube covered legs he had previously were now covered in sleek armor all the way from his feet to his hips. Behind the armor it looked more organic, like dark muscle that moved with him when he walked. Gone were his feet that sported human like toes and instead he had plates of metal covering. The top half of him looked more or less the same, but the bottom was entirely new and entirely improved. You stood, calling him over and circling him happily as he got to the table. 

"Look at you!" You smiled out at him and you could see embarrassed cheeks. 

"Winston has helped me make significant improvements! We should be able to complete the top section later this week, right Genji?" Dr. Ziegler was tucking hair behind her ear and eyeing him proudly. 

"We're going to cover this arm too-" He held out his human arm your way. "You're going to be jealous of how cool I look." 

"I bet." You laughed with him before he said a quick greeting to the Strike Commander and joined with the doctor in line for food. 

You sat in the commissary finishing up your breakfast. across from a man who tangled his fingers with yours over the table and you smiled. You smiled to him and to yourself and even through the sounds of communicators going off all at once around you. Morrison turned to stare at those getting the alerts suddenly with a look of concern painting on his face. 

"All the Blackwatch agents are being pinged." He grabbed his own phone to see if he missed something. With a disgruntled face he brought the phone to his ear. "Gabe-" You could hear Gabe's voice on the other end barking at him, he went on long enough for you to clean up your trays and take them to the cleaning station. "I can't stop him for using our resources that way! Are we sure it's Talon? How do we know she didn't just leave him?" Something told you this was bad. He paused after letting out a breathless _'oh'_. "Yeah she's here with me. I'll send her your way- but hey, no surprises, I want a full write up and every damn detail of this on paper you understand?"

You held your side. You held the bullet hole that shouldn't be there and you wondered how you thought you were going to keep getting away with this. There's only so many coincidences you could fall back on, only so many cover stories before the truth you'd wrapped up in a badly tied bow unraveled and your secrets spill onto the table. 

"Gérard has stopped all current Blackwatch missions and diverted agents to a search and rescue. Gabe said he needs you for this, I'll hold off assigning you anything else until you're cleared." He squeezed your hand. "Be careful out there. Let's make it to Indiana, yeah?" 

"I promise." You leaned across the table and kissed him as you cupped his cheeks. "I love you, Morrison." 

With that you ran, taking off towards Gabe's office in the Blackwatch halls as Blackwatch agents scattered across base to ready for their own missions. Gabe was at his desk, head in his hands as he was listening to Gérard's frantic voice on the other end. You quietly slipped into the office, seating yourself across from him and leaning forward to catch up. 

They took his wife. Talon kidnapped her in the middle of a show as she waited in darkened wings of the stage for her solo to begin. Stage hands tried to wrestle them off her, but black clothed Talon agents swept her away after leaving a mess of unconscious dancers on the floor. Those who managed to catch a glimpse in the commotion through their fear remembered one person vividly. A big guy with a ginger goatee and a nasty scar on his head who was smiling as he turned to see the chaos backstage had turned to. 

Tishler. 

Gérard was going on and on about cryptic messages Talon was sending through 'anonymous' sources. Messages that said Overwatch shouldn't have meddled in their systems, that Blackwatch would burn for stealing their information and you had to cover your mouth because you thought you were going to be sick. _They took her because you and Gabe were there._ They took her because you have information, still being decoded, on the identities of Talon agents and they took her, not just because Gérard couldn't leave well enough alone, but because they thought _he_ ordered his agents to take data from them. 

Gabe looked like he was going to throw up. The realization of the situation was on his face too. His eyes were closed and hands clasped in front of his mouth and he couldn't even look at you. 

They were sending Blackwatch agents to all known locations to check for signs of Gérard's wife. Gabe spoke in short low understandings before finally ended the call and sitting with you in buzzing silence. You couldn't see under his desk but you knew he was shaking his leg and little smoke stacks were rising from his shoulders. 

"We couldn't have known they'd retaliate like this. They didn't even see our faces Gabe, they're just lashing out because they know only Blackwatch would try something as big as we did and they're probably just trying to scare us." You were trying to reason with him, or with yourself, to make either of you feel better. To make either of you feel like this wasn't your fault. 

"Yeah? Well, it's working. If they kill her because I couldn't be patient enough to wait for Gérard's orders, I think I'll actually fall apart. We have to get her back. We have to get back in their base and-" 

"You want to go back? Have you actually lost your mind? I can't lie to Morrison again, Gabe. I can't get shot again. How am I supposed to explain-" You stopped. How were you supposed to explain another healed wound? Your heart jumped into your throat. You had so much to tell him, so much he needed to know. But, maybe now wasn't the time to be dropping bombs on him.

"I'm going." He was clenching his jaw and you could almost hear his teeth grinding together. "I'm going, whether you come with me or not." He stood and started towards the door and you were shaking your head trying to tell him this was a mistake, that for once, he should just follow Gérard's orders instead of following his gut feeling. "If you're coming with me, meet me at the plane in thirty minutes. Otherwise you better be on a drop ship with Jesse, I don't trust him out in the field alone with that cast still on."

* * *

Gérard was no longer keen on keeping the information you went back for on that mission with Morrison secret. You were strapped in at your seat, head pounding from the roaring of the engine when the alert came through on your phone. Pictures and descriptions of all known Talon leadership, all known Talon officials, were sent out to every Blackwatch agent hitting the field with messages that read in bold red letters not to engage, only advise commanding officers, if you spotted any of them. 

You disembarked the plane holding Jesse's crutches for him, waiting patiently, but looking to the skies wondering what the hell Gabe thought he was going to accomplish all alone sneaking into Talon headquarters again when they were already on high alert. Gérard asked you both personally to watch the transients through his apartment building, to watch the home he shared with his wife. He requested during the day you switched between watching the doors at street level and patrolling the apartment, at night you and Jesse would rotate sleeping to keep an eye for any agents sniffing around. 

Most days at the Paris apartment were uneventful. There were suspicious loners wandering about the building, easily written off as lost tourists or handymen, but at no point did anyone try to breech into the apartment, nor was there any sign of tampering inside.

But it was on a warm Thursday afternoon when Jesse was wondering around the apartment sounding off his checks out loud to himself and you were sitting across the street in a little cafe connected to a bookshop. Sat comfy at the window with an expresso you hadn't touched in hours and a media screen in front of you, your eyes stayed on the door to the apartment building as you pretended to read novel after novel. By the end of the day you were getting warm and ready to head back up to meet Jesse, you rolled your sleeves up and fluffed out your hair, rubbing stiff fingers over tired eyes.

Your mind was wandering from just watching all day. Gabe had gone absolutely radio silent, and at this point you weren't even sure if he was alive, but you couldn't worry about it or you'd drive yourself insane as you sat there in that cafe. 

"Now what is a pretty little pet like you doing all alone in a place like this?"

Ugh, really? Getting hit on while you were on a mission? You rolled your eyes as hard as you could as you turned to face the smooth voice just out of your vision. 

"Fuck off-" You started with a snarl, but immediately all the wind was knocked out of you when you laid eyes on his face.

"Tsk-tsk. That's inappropriate language for a woman on the job." He was huge. Orange hair and dark eyes with a nasty scar, Tishler was right in front of you. He was fucking massive and you felt all of the color drain from your face. Behind him two women dressed in black stood with their backs towards him and stared into the cafe as he cornered you so no one else could see. Suddenly you couldn't find your voice. "Are you having fun here wasting your time watching for agents that will never show? Perhaps you should have been looking in here instead, maybe then you would have seen my wonderful assistants coming in for Amélie's favorite pastries each morning. Did you know she loves chausson au pommes?" 

"Where is she?" You growled, moving to stand but he was quick- he grabbed you by the shoulder and forced you back in your seat, gripping into you much too hard.   

"She is safe, we've treated her very well." 

 _"Where is she?"_   You repeated now through gritting teeth as you reached for your phone. 

"She was such a sweet little thing. Unlike you, it appears, she knew when to keep her mouth shut." Ignoring you, his eyes lingered out the window but they snapped back once he saw what was in your hand. "Ah-ah. Can't have that." He snatched the phone from you and crushed it like it was absolutely nothing and you were sure he could feel you shaking under his hold at your shoulder. You tried to go for a low blow, to hit him between the legs and at least make a scramble out of the cafe, but he grabbed your wrist and twisted it away causing you to cry out in pain. "You've got fight in you. I can fix that." 

"What did you do to her?!" You were almost screaming now and he slammed your shoulder down to the table holding you there as you tried to squirm and kick your way out. Against the table you could only look at him and his grinning face and the absolute glee in his eyes. He got very close to you, invading your space and close enough that you could feel his breath above your cheek.

“Those were some cute little photos of you with the Strike Commander, weren’t they? I certainly had quite a good time looking through them.”

You spit at him.

"You should learn to hide those scars of yours better if you're trying to be inconspicuous, do they teach you nothing useful at that dammed daycare they call Overwatch?" He chuckled and it made your skin crawl. "You're a hacker, correct? Talon could use someone like you to keep themselves safe. It _appears_ we have ourselves a bit of a cyber security problem." 

"Get off me." You barked. The hand on your shoulder moved and his forearm pressed rough against your back, two fingers landing at different spots on the back of your neck. 

"I'll give you some time to think on it." His fingers pinched exactly on a nerve under your skin and it sent your brain immediately into panic mode. You couldn't move and in just seconds your body went limp and your mind went black. 

You woke to police lights surrounding the apartment building and an omnic cop speaking fast French to you as he shook at your now sore again shoulder. You felt groggy and heavy, eyes burning like you were seeing everything through a lens of motion blur. On the other side of the street you saw a man in all black and a cowboy hat with a bright white cast holding an umbrella over a very tall woman wrapped in a shock blanket. The lights from the cars were reflecting off the rain covered glass of the cafe and you tried to tell the omnic officer that you needed to get outside but all your words came out like mush. You pointed out the window to Jesse, imitating a cowboy hat and trying to vaguely gesture to get the officer to send him over.

* * *

 

You'd find out much later that Amélie was being dropped off in a regular taxi as Tishler was distracting you. When she opened the door to her apartment she screamed at Jesse's readied gun aimed at the door thinking a Talon intruder had finally showed up. She didn't remember anything, in fact, she didn't even seem to know she'd been missing for almost a week at that point. She believed she had been out running errands, arriving home in an unusual fashion (taxis were never her taste, she preferred her personal driver), and she only seemed to be convinced she actually didn't know what was going on when she realized the clothes on her body were not part of her wardrobe. 

Gérard questioned you for hours as you sat in the back of an ambulance about every minute detail from your interaction with Tishler. You told him everything, right down to the creepy vibes he put off and the way he spoke to you that made you want to gag, you told him everything as you were being cleared for leaving the scene and told all Tishler did was pinch a pressure point.

You each tried to get a hold of Gabe, but your worry only grew as the time did from when you last spoke to him. Blackwatch agents were called to return to previous missions, told to return to business as usual, but you could see the weight of the last few days taking it's toll on Gérard as you stood next to Jesse outside the drop ship.   

"They can not scare us from our own home. I will be staying here, for the time being, to watch over her." He held Amélie's hands and squeezed as he looked so deeply into her eyes you almost got lost in their gaze yourself. While they spoke in French between themselves, you and Jesse slipped away into the drop ship letting them have time to reconnect. They each waved at you when the engine started before they took steps back to watch the take off.  

You would have cried if you'd known that was the last time you'd see Gérard.

Although he was never the closest person in your life, you could see he still had a life to live far beyond anything Overwatch could give him. He loved passionately and even when you disagreed with his methods, he knew how to command teams of agents who otherwise would have gone rouge in no time. Your last view of him was out of the drop ship window, one arm wrapped tightly around his wife's waist and the deepest look of concern you had ever seen on anyone's face in your life watching as the ship lifted into the sky. In the week she was missing, he aged more than you'd seen him do in the years you were filing away missions in Blackwatch. He became a dot in the distance with deep worry lines, still as a statue and it would always hurt your heart that you never even actually said 'goodbye'. 

* * *

For two weeks things were normal.

For two weeks Gabe gave you the cold shoulder and angrily stalked around the base running harder than normal morning practices after a midnight flight back in just days after you returned. For two weeks you planned out a trip to Indiana with Morrison where you would put up that wallpaper and spend a day doing nothing but getting twisted between sheets with him. For two weeks you worked with Ana to make up for missing captain duties while you were injured. For two weeks things were quiet and it looked like life was settling like the rock of guilt in your stomach that shifted when you slept next to someone who didn't know the double life you were living. 

Sunday mornings were normally calm.

Sunday mornings were when both of you woke to the sunrise instead of blaring alarms, you’d cuddle in bed until one of you decided it was time to face the waking world again. Your head was on Morrison's chest, ear listening to his steady heart beat. You were having a lazy morning with one leg spread across his thighs and your fingers twirling in small circles just under his belly button. He was smiling with your touch, the room settled to a dull yellow glow of day, but you were content under the sheets with him just listening to his heart as he was catching up on some show he missed two seasons of, holding his phone above his face with earbuds in. His other hand was combing through your hair sending little shivers that made you nuzzle against him down your spine.

You played with the hem of his shirt, fingers rolling over his skin and he was responding with little happy groans the closer you got to sliding your hand down further. Through his shirt you kissed at his chest and slipped between his sweatpants and his boxer briefs. Hips responded by pushing up, his fingers in your hair gently clawed at the base of your skull. Just to be a tease he spread his legs a little wider, bringing a thigh between your own and grinding it against your core and that made you whine a little as you tugged as his quickly hardening cock beneath the fabric.      

“Commander Morrison.” He answered a call that only rang in his ears in the most professional voice he could as you were kissing down his abdomen and you slowed your movements to let him have a moment to adjust.

The voice on the other end was short, whoever they were it sounded like they were out of breath. Just as you hooked fingers into his pants, you felt his whole body go rigid. Gentle fingers at your hair suddenly became shaky as he listened. You slowly pushed yourself up to stare at him. Something wasn’t right. He’s been quiet for too long. Glossy eyes looked to you and he brought your head down, holding it tight to his chest as he placed a kiss against the top of your hair.

“Who else knows?” Against his chest again you could heart his previously calm heartbeat was pattering away like a woodpecker. You heard the voice on the other end, small and mousey. _‘Local law enforcement, the directors and you, sir._ ’ “I’d like to inform Commander Reyes of this myself. Please hold off on any other calls until you hear back from me.” On the other end was a short affirmation and as soon as the call dropped, so did his phone against the mattress. All at once his arms were around you holding you so tight in a hug you had to gasp for a breath. You drew back to ask what was wrong, but he kissed you and you could taste the beginnings of tears on his lips. He dropped his eyes to your shoulder, drying them on his SEP shirt around your body before taking a deep breath and leaving the bed for his dresser.

“We're going to have to hold off on Indiana, I'm sorry sweetheart. I’m heading to get Ana, I need you to bring Gabe to my office.” He was dressing quickly and you scrambled out of bed to hop into your own combat uniform.

“Can you tell me what happened?” You stopped him, laying a gentle hand on his forearm. He looked like he was going to be sick.

“Gérard was murdered last night and his wife is missing again.”

You fell back against the bed and snapped to stare at the wall shared between this room and his, you stared at it as if you might burn a hole through and see Gérard sitting there on the other side. 

“Gabe’s going to have a hard time with this. He’s losing a friend and gaining his job. Please, let me be the one to tell him.” _Morrison_ was going to have a hard time with this, but he was brushing it off. He had to play by commander rules right now. He couldn't loose his control yet, had to think rationally before he went nuclear on a situation he couldn't possibly fully understand. "Keep the hall outside my office clear for me, I don't want anyone eavesdropping on this. We can't take any chances."  

“I will, Jack. I’m so sorry, I know he was a friend of yours too.” You hugged his arm but he didn't move. You knew you wouldn't get a reaction out of him. He had to keep it together and if you broke down, so would he. 

“You should get going.” He pushed a hand through his hair as he finished dressing. You lifted to your toes and kissed his cheek with a quiet reminder that you loved him before you took off out the door and down the emergency stairwell knowing the elevator would be too slow. 

Gabe didn't anwser his door when you knocked. You leaned to it and listened and you could hear his shower running. With a groan you punched in his code and made it to his cracked open bathroom door.

"Gabriel!" You called into the steamed bathroom. 

"Fuck! Jesus Christ, what the fuck?" He sounded genuinely startled and you heard the clattering of his body wash down to the bottom of the shower. Maybe not the best way you could have gone about this, especially after he'd been refusing to work with you for two weeks, but you didn't have time. 

"Cut it short. Code red emergency- we need to go to Morrison's office, now."

The water was already turning off as soon as the words _code red_ left your lips. He grumbled with ferocity as he darted by you covering himself in a towel and into his bedroom where he threw on his Blackwatch uniform.

He tried to ask you what happened but you stayed quiet, kept your mouth shut and just repeated it was important all the way to Morrison's office, but you stopped him just before getting in the door and held onto his arm looking him in the eyes and pleading that he could keep control. 

"Prepare yourself, Gabe. It's bad. Don't lose it in there. If you feel yourself slipping, I'll be waiting right out here, okay?" You slid open the door for him and inside Ana was shaking her head and wiping at tears. Gabe turned over his shoulder to give you a horrified look before you closed the door and protected the hall from any potential eavesdroppers.

It wasn't long before you heard what sounded like arguing and muffled voices over a speaker phone. Every minute ticking by was only making you more nervous. Raising voices were making your heart spike. Names of Talon leaders and plans of attack were being thrown around in the room on the other side and slowly it was swelling until Gabe tore open the door stalking into the hall and _shit_ he had black smoke starting at his shoulders.

Did they see? Did his eyes change too? Your heart was pounding. You ran after him calling his name but it seemed like he couldn’t hear you. When you caught up to him he was seething, fists at his side curling and solid black eyes burning with anger.

“Gabe-” You gasped, trying to pull at his sweatshirt to get him to stop.

“They’re going to fucking pay for this. They are. Fuck Jack and his plans, I’m not waiting on them to find Amélie. I’m going to make them regret ever attacking us like the cowards they are-” He was ranting and raving and you could hear droves of footsteps about to turn the corner, you shoved him into a darkened meeting room as hard as you could and slammed the door behind you hoping no one saw him like this.

“Talk to me-”

“What does he think sending out the strike teams is going to do?! Gérard is already dead. She’s probably already dead too! Talon doesn't fucking care if she's dead or alive, they're just doing this to send a message that Overwatch can't beat them. They wanted to give us a little glimmer of hope that we had done something right. This has Tishler written all over it. He's going to fucking pay. It may be a game to him now but he won't be so fucking smug when I kill every single one of those wannabe leaders. They'll be begging me to let them live-”  

“Gabe! _Look at me_ _commander_ , I need you to calm down. Listen to yourself, I need you to think rationally. Killing Talon officials at random will do nothing but make them angrier. We’re going to get them, they’re going to pay for their crimes, but we have to let Morrison send out a team to get Amélie first. We have to be smart about this.”

"We could get them, together. We have their addresses, their families- we could get everyone if we wanted to. Fuck proof, fuck rules, you and I could really send a message. They would never see us coming." His nails were digging into the meeting room table and you were stumbling back. 

"You're scaring me." You breathed out. "You know that's not how we're doing this, Gabe. You know I don't want that." 

He was breathing hard. Completely black eyes stared endlessly into yours. You watched as the realization of how fucked up he sounded sunk in. He seemed to search the ground for answers, mind racking away the crossing over of nightmares into life, but you needed to bring him down. He needed to know that even though this was bad, that you were here and this was real and that this had to be handled realistically.  

"I'm sorry about Gérard." You whispered, reaching out a shaking hand to him, choosing to believe he was mentally there enough not to hurt you. He wrapped fingers around the ends of yours before he knees buckled and he sank to the floor, slipping from your grasp. You followed with him, sitting across and curling your knees to your chest. The black eyes and the smoke were giving way to pure unfiltered pain and you could see tears welling at the sides of his eyes. 

"He didn't deserve to die." His voice was broken and you reached out to squeeze his hand again. "They should have killed me. He had a wife, he had _love_. They were going to start a family next year when she retired from ballet. He was- he..." Hearing him getting choked up was killing you. Silence was followed by heavy footsteps passing by with worried voices. "We have to find Amélie." 

"We have to let Morrison do his job. Let him send out the strike teams, Gabe. You and anyone in Blackwatch would only be acting on emotion if you sent us out now. Grieve for your friend, gather your thoughts and put together an attack plan and let Morrison take care of it." Your voice was gentle. Gabe fell back against the dirty meeting room carpet and stared into the dark ceiling lights above. He rubbed at his eyes and his stomach was jumping as he tried not to cry. "It's okay. It's just me. If you need to cry, let it out. God knows I've never held back in front of you." Your voice was trying to joke with him, but he knew you meant it. 

There's something so visceral and raw about a grown man crying. You moved your legs beneath his head as he buried his face in his beanie and he was taken by absolutely overwhelming emotion that was spilling over and making you cry too, but you tried to be quiet and let him get it out without the added layer of having to comfort you. He needed to cry it out before he was thrust into a job meant for two people while he was faced with the loss of a friend. So, you sat patiently, running fingers through his hair and biting back your own emotions. You let him do exactly what he needed to do, as the memory of Gabriel Reyes on the verge was seared into your heart. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting there, slowly but surely, the rumbles below base are starting. ( ˶˘ ³˘(˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°˵)♡


	32. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's um.... a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys- Heads up there is an interaction in this chapter that involves some unwanted touching (not sexual, but still invasive) by a character that is Not A Good Person. As always if you have any questions please reach out to me on tumblr/twitter! <33333

You could argue that everything changed when a friend wrapped their hands at your throat. You could argue that it was a minefield that thrust you into a life you could have never expected. You could argue that it was the gradual decent from anger to love. You could argue where things changed for the worst, but there was no denying the change that happened when Overwatch lost Gérard Lacroix and Ana Amari in the same week. Losing Gérard may not have been the start of the mudslide, but it was the rainstorm that hurried it along and it was a fast fall from a once steady foothold. 

After you convinced Gabe to let Morrison handle the strike teams, you and your commanders came to the decision that it would be best if Gabe had extra help taking on Gérard’s work.

Ana would lead the rescue mission to get Amélie back, bringing along as many of the strike team members that she could. She left that day as you were in a hurry to pack the drop ships with extra supplies for the strike teams, sweating and exhausted as you helped haul everything over and she stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, saying something you only half listened to. 

Sometimes you felt guilty for not remembering exactly what she said to you in that moment. The engines around you were roaring, you were distracted with putting together temporary hacking setups for the agents, you remember nodding your head, remember she looked so stern, but, you could never remember what Ana’s last words were to you. 

After she left, and you didn't realize it was for the last time, you were helping Gabe organize the shambles that Blackwatch had fallen into- assigning agents to their tasks and running morning practices for him while Morrison was directing the strike teams in the field. Many Blackwatch agents were clearly still grieving, still in shock that Gérard was gone so suddenly. No one quite seemed to know how to act and in those days the Blackwatch halls were quiet solemn places that you'd like to forget. 

Morrison had this horrible frown on his face. It was painful almost to watch him as he worked. You could tell he wanted to be out there with Ana, he wanted to be on the ground with his agents where he belonged, but something was holding him back.

"Be careful, check in as soon as you can." He'd ask you anytime you left the room, it dawned on you that he was anxious, worried that Talon would take you away too. 

The first couple mornings while Ana was on her recovery mission you would open your eyes before the alarm went off, he would be watching you with hurting eyes, running fingers through the ends of your hair or drawing circles on your hips with his fingertips. He'd whisper to remind you that he loved you and something about the way he spoke was so broken and so afraid and it hit right in the center of your heart.

You'd stare back as you desperately wanted to tell him you weren't as fragile as you seemed. You wanted to scream it at his face and write it across Gabe's walls or beat it into Jesse and Genji during morning practices. Every day you worried more and more about keeping your secrets. You hid the wound at your side, you made sure no one could see how quickly you healed from bruises during practice. In empty offices and boring meetings your mind would run over what you would tell Gabe. You knew it needed to be done, and soon, keeping your secrets was eating you up inside and making your stomach rot until you spent your breakfast and lunch breaks hung over toilets in bathrooms far from any eavesdroppers, gagging up your food because you couldn't keep your guilt down.

Every time you were reminded of what you were hiding, you did a lot of thinking about Moira. It was while you were in a crowded meeting room as you staring at a worried lieutenant going over a strike plan and your mind drifting off when you recognized that in her own twisted way she really did think of you as a friend.  
  
All the countless hours in her lab as you were spying on her for Morrison when she first came to Blackwatch led you to understand that she showed care in peculiar ways. She was careful with her lab rats and bunnies, cooing at them under her breath making sure they were calm before injecting them. She was careful like that with you too. Only ever giving you what you asked for. Making sure you were comfortable before pricking you with a needle, she’d answer every question you had, even if her experiments and her serums pushed the limits of what was okay and what wasn't, she treated you as kindly as she could until you trailed her across countries to a conference you had no business at.  
  
You spent an afternoon with her in the quiet of the public coffee shop on base avoiding Gabe, too afraid you'd blurt out your truth and hurt him when he's already in a vulnerable state as he was up to his chin in paperwork dealing with Blackwatch.

You sat with Moira as she sipped a hot drink and flipped through an old notebook. She was surprised when you asked her to meet. After weeks of cold stares and avoided meetings she jumped at the invitation to sit down and talk again. You slipped away from lunch with your Blackwatch family and you sat with her trying to build yourself up to say what you actually needed to during small talk that, in the end, didn't really matter.    
  
“I’m going to tell Gabe.” You finally said after leaving your own drink untouched, now cold and ignored on the table. “I’m going to tell him everything and... I don't know, I just thought you should know.”  
  
“I appreciate the warning.” Her face turned towards the window. “Perhaps then, it is best I leave before he directs his anger my way. I realized some time ago that Blackwatch was not my calling, so I’m sure you will be happy to know I have already begun looking for employment elsewhere.”  
  
“That doesn’t make me happy, Moira.” You leaned your face against your palm, twisting the cup against the table in small circles with the other and she looked to you in surprise. “I don't trust a single thing you do, but I think you’re the smartest person I'll ever meet, and even though the work you’re doing is morally questionable I know you’ve only been trying to help me. I know your intentions are never evil, but you just don't understand the harm you're causing and it's like I keep getting drawn back in even when I know it's only going to hurt me. From the start I knew whatever you were going to put in me wasn't safe, but there's some twisted up part of me that still doesn't care and wants you to keep experimenting."

She stared at you with that stupid unreadable face and you breathed out, shaking your head. 

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm not happy you're leaving but I think it would be better if you did.”  
  
“I appreciate you telling me this, truly.” Voices in the shop were overlapping and you turned to stare at the people around you who were probably living normal lives with normal problems. Her long nails scraped against the side of the cup in drumming thought. “I’m not a fool, you know. I can see how much pain you have been in and I am sorry to be the root of it. It was never my intention, I never wished to harm you." 

"Right." You laughed coldly to yourself. Moira was someone that would forever be an enigma to you, even if she did want to hurt you, there was no way you'd be able to tell with the way she kept her expression and her feelings closed. A gray area acquaintance, a friend with blurred boundaries. "Where do you think you'll go now?" 

"There are some universities interested in my expertise. I suppose I could seriously consider their offers. Regardless, wherever I go please come see me should you ever have any side effects or lingering issues. You know I'll always be willing to work with you." She stood and dropped her empty coffee cup into a nearby bin before turning to look at you over her shoulder. "I do hope to see you again. Good luck with your remaining time at Overwatch, my friend." 

"Good luck on your next adventure, Moira." You responded, sitting with your full cold drink low in the chair. 

You almost felt like you should hug her. She hesitated as if you would. 

By the next day Moira had put in her notice, something Gabe brushed off with grumbles being too busy to focus on her. You quietly stared at the paper letter of resignation on his desk that had gone untouched by the overworked commander. Instead of focusing on her, he sat you down and finally went over some of the details of his recent solo mission back to Talon HQ.

"I spent a lot of time trying to find out more about the final member of their inner counsel. I followed paper trails, bank accounts, travel records, you name it, and everything is leading to one person- the only thing is, I don't have any way to prove yet this person is who I think they are. It's mostly just coincidences and hunches right now and nothing else to go on." 

"Well, who do you think it is?" 

"Carson Petras." 

 _"The directors partner?_ You honestly think one of them is running Talon and the other is running Overwatch?" You twisted your face in disapproval. That seemed like a long shot, if not completely impossible. Director Petras already flipped his lid enough over small mishaps in public image, something like this would send him to the grave if it was true.

Gabe tried, unconvincingly, to show you the loose 'evidence' he found. Mostly semi matching flight paths and time overlaps of vacations that on their own couldn't prove anything, but he seemed convinced. He was rambling about it like a mad man and you could only bring yourself to believe the stress of the solo mission and now everything that was happening at Overwatch was finally getting to him.

The less you believed him the more he was discouraged and the more his focus shifted as he nervously paced through his office, instead showing you the results of your finally decrypted program that worked on getting the Talon agents identities. It took weeks to decode all of it, days to cross reference between all the files between the organizations, and now here was Gabe, chewing at his lip and taking minutes to pace around the room looking through every file and becoming more panicked with each one. 

“There’s dozens of them.” He finally told you after leafing through the files. 

_“What?”_

“In every department almost. Some of them are high in our ranks. It's unbelievable. They’ve been here this whole time and we never knew.” He sat across from you, heavy into his chair and looked right into your eyes. “Cadets, captains, lieutenants, janitorial, medical, they’re fucking everywhere. That doctor Jesse’s been on and off with, _even him_. Jesus Christ, we can’t trust anyone... They’ve been here the whole fucking time. Agents I’ve mentored and never even suspected. Talon even killed some of their own when they brought that building down.”

“Holy shit.” You breathed out. “What the hell do we do with this? Should I get Morrison?”

“Not yet, we need to figure what to do with this information first. We need a plan before we bring it to him, we have to play this carefully. Pulling everyone out of the field at once will be too suspicious. Talon already knows we have this information so they may think we haven’t decrypted it yet." He let his head rest in his hands, eyes closed and deep in thought. There has to be some way we use this." He whispered, you think to himself, but it was almost like he was begging for help. 

You sat back in the chair, wide eyed and questioning every interaction you've shared with agents you thought you knew. It seemed like the whole organization was flipped upside down and only the two of you knew about it. You curled your legs close to your body and chewed at the end of your nail. Ana was getting nowhere in her efforts to locate Amélie and it had been days. At this point you were sure it was next to impossible to track her.

There had to be some way to use this to find her, there had to be _something_ you could do to use this against Talon-   

“I have a crazy idea.” You breathed out and shot to your feet to explain yourself.  

* * *

"I promise, I'll be okay Jack. Gabe will be with me the whole time." You stood in front of Gabe's plane the next day bouncing your foot. "I know you'd rather be doing this yourself, but it's too much of a risk to send the Strike Commander in. I need you to trust us to get this done." 

"Clock's ticking." Gabe called from the plane. "If we're doing this, we need to do it now." 

"For the record I think this is a horrible, horrible idea. I know it's selfish for thinking you shouldn't be putting yourself in danger like this, I know you're just trying to do your job as an agent, but..." Worry was completely obvious across his face, but you didn't have any words of comfort. "I understand why you're doing it, it's just- I can't lose you. Please, make sure your mic is on before you get in so I can listen. If it cuts out I'm sending in every field agent in the area, even if it's just a malfunction, I'm not taking any chances. Ana and I will be holding until we get word from you and I give the order to move out." He held your face and kissed you as long and deep as he could before Gabe started calling for you again. "Be safe. I love you." 

"You too, I love you." You whispered against his lips. He pressed his forehead to yours and you kissed him one last time before running to Gabe's plane and slamming the door behind you. 

It was a scramble to get moving, time was of the essence. Morrison took off running, right then the Talon agents who were high in Overwatch ranks were being pulled back to base under the guise that they were being sent on an undercover op into Talon. In reality, as soon as they landed back on base they were being handcuffed and locked in holding cells with the others waiting for you to pull your weight at Talon headquarters. Morrison was meeting at a drop ship with Ana and her crew, as soon as you had a location they would send out to recover the fallen commander's wife.   

"Here-” Gabe circled his dog tags off his neck after the door to the plane closed and threw them your way. You nodded. “This is absolutely insane. You know that right?”

“As long as I see you there, I know I’ll be safe.” You caught his dog tags from the air as he rushed to the pilots seat. The plane shifted as he darted into the clouds and you unlocked the padlocks to the black box already sitting on the floor in the back of the plane, typing in your name into the keypad as the light of the sky filled the cabin.

“I know you don’t need it this time, but I got another uniform for you while I was in their base. Sorry it’s all scratched up. Best I could do in the moment.” You _hmm’d_ back at his apology wondering what kind of scuffle he got in trying to get it out of there. There was a similar red mask to the one you wore previously, but this time the face of it was chipping away at the red paint and revealing shiny silver metal beneath. You could see yourself reflected in the metal and you pushed it to the side not wanting to meet your own eyes, instead going for a new mask laying on top of Gabe's uniform.    

“What is this?” You lifted the mask in your hand, his under armor fatigues in the other.

“Had it made while I was in Italy. Good thing too, it’ll make it easier for you to know which one I am.”

“Aren’t they going to be suspicious of a person in a mask they don’t recognize?”

“They’ve already seen it. You won't believe what you can get away with if you just act like you belong somewhere, especially with little Talon brats that are too scared to question any show of authority. Agents at higher ranks have identifiable masks and nicknames instead of just using their numbers.”

“And how did you manage to become a ‘higher up agent’?” You flipped the mask in your hands, looking over the prefect craftsmanship and the carefully molded details. 

“Stole and changed an ID badge.”

“And _I’m_ the one with the crazy plan? Mine is perfectly sane compared to what you’ve apparently been doing, sneaking around their base pretending to belong. Do you know how lucky you are that you haven't been caught yet?” You sat in the copilot’s seat with his Talon uniform and the mask in your hands. All white and menacing it looked like the skull of an owl, you stared at it as you tried to imagine him alone in the Talon base pretending to be someone he’s not. Then your mind buffered for a moment as you processed he said higher up agents don't refer to each other by numbers. “Wait, do you have a nickname too?”

“...Yes.” His response was unusually coy.

“Spit it out, I have to know what the great Gabriel Reyes chose as his nickname.” You were smiling. He mumbled something under his breath that sounded vaguely familiar and you almost burst out laughing but you had to hear him say it again. “Didn’t quite catch that, one more time?”

“Thunder.” He growled out and shot you a stern commander look that shut you up just before you burst into hysterics. “Don’t you ever breathe a word of this to Jesse, I will sooner throw myself off this plane than admit I used his stupid drunk idea of a nickname.”

You laughed hard and almost out of your seat. The thought of Talon agents nodding their head at a masked Gabe and seriously calling him 'Thunder' was, quite possibly, the only thing that could make you laugh during a time like this. You were wiping happy tears from your eyes and patting his shoulder as he tried to hide the smile he had too before setting his uniform and clothes on the chair and heading back to the cabin to change.

A chuckle was still getting past your lips as you changed into plain clothes this time. Everything about this was ridiculous, everything seemed like it wasn't real. It was hard to keep that smile on your lips though as you looked over your shoulder to Gabe. His face was more sunken than usual. The stress of everything was definitely getting to him. As you brought a loose Overwatch t shirt over your frame that showed off the scars on your arm you told yourself once all this was over you'd make him take a vacation. You pulled plain black leggings fit snug at your legs so they knew you didn't have any pockets or anything to hide. Worn down running shoes laced at your feet, you were kneeling over to tie them as Gabe stood to change into a Talon uniform and you turned to him gathering your hair up at the top of your head, looking at him with a face of worry.

"I'm sorry I didn't go with you, Gabe. It was too much. That was asking too much, too soon." 

"I know. You have nothing to apologize for. I understand why you didn't come with me, besides, I don't know if I would have trusted Jesse over there all alone." He kicked off his Blackwatch pants and paused before pulling the Talon ones on, staring at them gripped in his hand. "I figured out a way to avoid detection while I was there alone." 

“How the hell did you manage that?”

“Let me show you.” His lips spread with a small wicked smirk.

You watched his eyes shift to all black and your heart only jumped a little before his form was swirling into smoke. It wasn't nearly as slow as the first time he showed you, instead of each limb dissipating separately it seemed like all at once his body twisted into smoke and suddenly the pants in his hand dropped to the floor. You watched as black smoke crept along the metal ground of the plane. It swirled around your feet and you realized he was undoing your shoe laces. You let out a loud nervous laugh, pushing stray hairs from your forehead at the bizarre sight. The black snaked it's way across the floor to the back of the plane and slipped beneath the crack of the small bathroom door. There was a roaring moment of silence before you heard Gabe's familiar knocking on the other side. 

Your feet slipped out of the now untied shoes and you made you way to the door, slowly sliding it open, expecting to still see smoke but met with the fully formed body of Gabe standing and grinning on the other side. His eyes were still solid black, but he looked like himself. You saw your reflection in endless darkness and your hands shook as your mind shouted at you that there was an unfathomable possibility that your eyes could be like that some day too. You shoved him out of the way as your body lurched forward and your face went directly into the airline toilet coughing up bile. 

"Holy shit. I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you-" Gabe was behind you, his big body pressed to the wall to give you room in the cramped bathroom, a hand on the back of your shoulder trying to give you comfort.

You were sweating and trying to hide your face and, fuck, you couldn't keep doing this. You couldn't keep this in anymore but you also knew you couldn't tell him right before heading into such a dangerous situation. In the moment, you couldn't speak, fearing more of your stomach would try to push itself forward.

"It's okay, I'm still in control? See, look at my eyes." His voice was hesitant, face leaned down next to yours and you glanced at regular eyes staring back at you. "Are you alright?" 

"I'm fine. Sorry, it wasn't you. I'm just nervous." You wiped your forehead of cold sweat and tried to hide that you were lying through your teeth. "I'm just not sure how well this plan is going to work, you know?" You tried to laugh it off, avoiding his gaze as you dug through a small drawer on the side of the wall where he kept travel toiletries. 

"I need you to tell me if I'm scaring you. Please." 

"It wasn't you, Gabe. I'm fine, just a little shaky." It was him, just not for the reasons he thought. 

He backed up, giving you space to breathe again. Careful eyes were watching you in the little mirror mounted to the wall as you swished mouth wash and spit it with a disgusted face into the sink. You could see his jaw clenching in the reflection, eyes cast to the floor. He didn't believe you and it was obvious, but he pushed himself from the door frame and snatched his Talon uniform pants from the ground bringing them over his hips, sitting back at the pilots chair once all his Talon fatigues were on.

You took your time making sure your skin was back to it's regular state- no longer sweating and clammy. You took your time lacing your shoes back up and packing away your Overwatch uniform into a perfectly folded pile before joining him back at the front of the plane and curling into the copilot's seat.  

"I trust that you can get this done, but you need to breathe and stay calm. Don't let them intimidate you. My guess is when you get there you'll be speaking with one of their officers to open up negotiations. Jack will be watching for as long as he can from the nearby street cameras, but once you get inside I'll be the only eyes on you so I need you to stay vigilant. If anything feels off, signal me. If they try to take you below the first floor, refuse. If they don't want to negotiate then get out of there. Protect yourself at all costs, if you have to leave me behind, do it. Understood?" 

"Understood, sir."      

* * *

 

You put on a brave face and put your hands at eye level in the air next to you showing the cameras you didn’t have any weapons. All alone and holding your breath you walked through the massive courtyard in front of the huge Italian estate Talon used as their headquarters, in rafters above you could hear shifting, hidden agents aiming their weapons before a click came from your side.

“You lost?” An annoyed voice asked behind a Talon soldier mask, approaching you from the shadows with a rifle drawn your way. Before telling them what you were here for you announced your name as loudly and clearly as possible.  

“-Captain with the Overwatch strike team. We have your double agents, I’m here to negotiate. I don’t want a fight.”

“We don’t negotiate with Overwatch.” Came another voice from behind you, along with with three more agents all ready to fire if you even flinched. You were taking deep steadying breaths, trying to keep your heart calm but the way you were sweating was giving away how nervous you were, hands in the air shaking as you held them. Under the helmets of some agents you could hear the telling sound of a voice over an ear piece. You froze, trying to listen in unable to hear intelligible words. A Talon agent with a smooth all white mask signaled to the others and they slowly lowered their weapons.   

“Well, what a good morning this is. If it isn’t Commander Morrison’s pet. What brings a pretty little thing like you all the way out here?” _Fuck._ Tishler's voice rang over an intercom system into the courtyard and a lump formed in your throat. "I'd like to hear what the lovely lady has to say, bring her to me." 

The Talon agents seemed to hesitate, one slowly opening the door to let you in and the others circling around you to lead you into a grand entrance. Even though you clearly didn't have anything on you, they searched you, patting you down for weapons before allowing you further in the building. You swore you could feel your heart beating against every vein, the sound of it in your ears made it hard to focus on your surroundings and you knew you needed to calm your body down before you met with a man who scared the light out of you.

They brought you through badly lit plush hallways, twisting around corners until you were sure they were walking you around the same path just to confuse you. As you moved through the estate with the agents you could feel the uncomfortable silence, sitting like a heavy blanket across your skin.  

His office was through a big intricately crafted wood door. Outside were the two women dressed in black that had been protecting him at the cafe in Paris. They stared at you over white metal covering the lower half of their faces like permanent medical masks, unimpressed eyes watching every move you made as they parted and let you past them. You turned, looking at the small posse sent to escort you and breathed a shaky sigh of relief when you saw at the tail end of them was a familiar white mask looming over the others giving you a small nod.

Tishler was standing leaned against his desk in a dark colored room, twirling something shiny and metal between his fingers. The sheer size of him almost knocked the wind out you, broad strong shoulders showed you he was massive beneath a dark three piece suit. A smile spread across his face as the door to his office closed behind you and you were suddenly very aware of how alone you were and how _stupid_ this was.

You thought maybe there was a chance you'd deal with one of the inner counsel of the organization, but never anticipated out of everyone that it would be him. You stayed near the door, across the room and away, too afraid to get any closer after how quickly he was able to incapacitate you before.   

"Interesting choice sending the Overwatch captain with no power to try and negotiate with us. I must say, you've certainly peaked my interest with your bold moves." His arms were crossed and he just looked so _casual_. "I hope you're here to take up the offer to join us, we could use someone with your knowledge and your _special position_ within Overwatch."

"Never." You deadpanned at him. Over your dead body, you should have said, but then he might take that up as a challenge. "All we want is Amélie Lacroix back, she's suffered enough. You've made your point. Please, we get it. She's innocent in this." 

"What exactly are you ready to offer in return for her?" 

"Currently we have twenty Talon agents you had undercover in Overwatch waiting for charges. People who were high in our ranks. Every single one of them is going to be charged with man slaughter for the destruction of the Blackwatch base in Rome in addition to falsifying military identities and anything else that can be thrown at them. We're offering immunity for all of them, no prison time, no fines, completely off the hook only as long as we have Amélie returned safe and sane. No law enforcement involvement at all, Blackwatch is offering this as a one time opportunity to return her with no questions asked." 

You wondered if he would call your bluff. He knew Overwatch got the information illegally, a fact you glazed over for Morrison citing that you were able to hack into their systems remotely. You had to pretend like you had the upper hand, pretend like you had all the chips in the game.   

"Fascinating." He smiled at you and you thought you were going to jump out of your skin. “I couldn’t care less about those disposable agents. Release them or don’t, I don’t care for a deal that benefits them.” Your heart sank. He didn't even think about. He didn't give a shit if these people rot in prison for the rest of their lives, he didn't care at all. He just twirled the shiny metal in his hand around more, dark eyes continuing to burn into you. “But, there is something else I would be willing to trade for.” He had this disgusting smile on his face and it felt like the floor beneath you dropped away,  you didn't want to think he was implying what you thought he was. “No need to look at me like that captain, all I’m asking for is a date.”

“You’re disgusting.” You snarled out. "But I'd expect nothing less from someone who spends their time snatching people from the street." 

“Don’t flatter yourself, I don’t want to be romantic with you. _I_ don't care about your little relationship with the commander, I care about the bigger picture. You see, I've been watching those little protests outside your headquarters very closely. They're growing more each day as more people realize Overwatch isn't what the world needs right now. I want them to see that that everyone is turning it’s back on Overwatch, that not even the Strike Commander’s little toy wants to stick around. Overwatch seems to have a bit of an image problem recently and we're very aware of the importance of keeping the public on your side. Those little gossip websites will eat it up, everyone will doubt the character of the man in charge. It will be delightful. Just a couple hours at a dinner and you pretend like you're having a good time, a couple photos taken for a scummy magazine- and I’ll give you sweet Amélie’s exact location.”

You were sure Morrison was pounding his fists against the table as he listened to Tishler through the wireless mic hidden discreetly beneath your shirt in the seams. It felt crazy, but you were actually considering his offer. 

"Or-" He started with a wide grin. "You could tell the world exactly where you got those scars and ruin Overwatch that way. I'm sure some people would be very interested in knowing what perfectly pristine Jack Morrison did." You stared at him, eyes locking in an accidental contest to see who would blink first, who would break first. You tried to search his reaction, tried to confirm if he actually knew or if he was just bluffing.

"Why the hell would you care about something as petty as ruining Overwatch's reputation?" 

He leaned behind him, stretching to push a button at the phone on his desk before speaking to an open line.

"Be a darling and come in here, would you?"  

A hidden door in the paneling of a wall to his side opened and a familiar figure emerged from a room lit in bright white light. You had to catch yourself from a dizzying whiplash seeing Arntz walking into the room, intricate mechanical legs attached from the hip down and her eyes were so cold- a far cry from the last time you saw her in the waiting room of the legal building.

You wanted to cry, the feeling of every emotion from the night she sent you message after message suddenly flooding back to you. She looked deathly. Her veins were bold across her skin and eyes glossed over with anger. You felt completely numb from shock. No longer able to feel your fingertips, knees felt like they were locking and you were moments from fainting. Tishler was saying more to you, but you zero'd in on Arntz and it was like everything else was being blocked out of your mind.  

"So tell me, captain. How bad do you really want Amélie Lacroix back? Are you willing to stake Overwatch's reputation on her?" He was leaned forward towards you, booming voice finally snapping you from a panicked daze. 

God you wished Gabe was in here with you. He'd see you shaking and breathing too fast as you just stared in silence at a woman who should never have been here.

You could scream. He'd knock every agent out and be in within seconds to rescue you, no doubt. You could turn around and leave, you could abandon this sham of a negotiation and just walk away.

Arntz was looking at you with such hatred. She was looking at you as if it was your fault she was here, that it was your fault you fell in love with the man who did that to her. But the thought of what Amélie was going through, it terrified you. She didn't deserve this. She should be home, grieving and surrounded by family. You tried to focus. You're here for a reason, you're here as a liaison. 

Don't let them distract you. Don't let them shake you. 

"I need proof of life." You forced yourself to look away from the ghost of your past. He raised an eyebrow and circled around behind his desk, pulling up grainy security camera footage into the air. It was odd in this day to see security footage in black and white, but you brushed it off just so overwhelmed to even see her. You examined everything. She was in what looked like a minimalistic hotel room and was stone faced staring at nothing from the edge of the bed. You couldn't tell if she looked sad or indifferent. She was in plain clothes, nothing that suited her own style and her long hair was a ratty mess falling long over her shoulders and down her back. "I need to hear her talk too." 

Tishler grunted, but dialed on his phone and you could see Amélie's face slowly drift towards a speaker mounted in the wall of her room. 

"Amélie dear, I have someone here who would like to speak with you. Say hello." While Tishler spoke to the phone he reached out for Arntz who positioned herself beneath his arm and placed her hand on his stomach, she faced him and the look of cold endearment she gave him sent pin needles down your spine. 

Amélie responded in French, voice small and unsure. You spent a few moments calling out to her over the phone, asking her to raise her hand this way or that, to say certain things that were basically gibberish just to make sure nothing had been prerecorded and he wasn't tricking you. Silent Arntz watched you with burning eyes, eyes that you knew if you'd meet again you'd have a full break down.

"So, do we have a deal?" His smile was beaming back at you and you could swear he had some of his teeth sharpened. The security footage dropped away and his hand was wandering over Arntz's side.  

"I have stipulations. We travel separately. I pick the location, it has to be in public where Overwatch agents can see and track me."

"Ah-ah. I leave my guns, you leave yours. Trust me pet, if I was going to harm you I'd make sure you never saw it coming. No backup. Just the two of us. You can keep that wire on, but anything more than that and the deal is off." He eyed the line of the wire that should have been completely unnoticeable and your whole body burned. "As soon as I give you her location you stay at the resturant for a half hour after I've left, minimum. Can't have you tracking me either, now can we?"

The perfect plan of threatening a low level Talon agent into agreeing to your scheme now suddenly seemed like a pipe dream. But every alternative seemed worse. What would you say to Gabe if you refused? How would you be able to look at yourself knowing you could have freed an innocent woman? 

"It's a date." You sarcastically spat at him.

"No time to waste then." He paused before walking towards you, stopping to pinch at Arntz's cheek. "Run along, I'm going to see our new friend out." 

You were shaking as he strolled past you to his door and held it open, pretending to be a gentleman. You reminded yourself over and over again in your mind why you were doing this and followed him from his office like a lost puppy. Your eyes nervously shifted to Gabe hidden behind that white mask and his body flinched as if he was going to lunge to protect you but you shook your head tight trying to tell him you were handling it. You tried to keep your back straight, your ears perked for any signs of immediate danger. Behind you three Talon agents, and Gabe you assume as well, followed through all the way back to the grand entrance. 

"It is a serious offer to have you as part of our team, I believe you would be a wonderful asset." He spoke with his hands folded behind his back, but they might as well have been sliding across the seat of your pants by the way he said it.

You kept your mouth tightly shut. Don't like him shake you. Don't let him rile you. Don't show how effected you were by seeing Arntz, or how little control you seemed to have over the situation. You gripped your fingers into the edge of your shirt and tightened your throat, stopping yourself from saying every nasty thing you wanted to lash out at this monster of a man in the interest of keeping Amélie alive. He walked you through the plush dim hallways, through the extravagant estate until you were back at the massive courtyard. 

"Meet me at the riverside market at seven. It's out in the open, so no surprises. From there feel free to choose any place to your liking. I look forward to spending an evening you, Ms. Strike Commander." He took your hand in his and it was absolutely comparatively. He brought it to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles and you made no effort in trying to hide how disgusted you were.

You backed away from the property making sure to check every window reflection and every shadow to ensure you weren't being followed. Wringing your hands in front of you, nervously chewing at your lip, trying to keep it together you gradually picked up your pace until you were running through side streets and beyond until you reached a small safe house Blackwatch had setup. 

As soon as you slammed the doors behind you there was a overwhelming sense of dread. You practically dove for the phone, frantically ripping off the wire in your shirt seams, needing to hear Morrison's voice now more than ever. You weren't going to make the same mistakes you did last time. He needed to know, you needed him to know how much this was effecting you. He picked up before the first ring could even finish.  

 _"Are you out of your mind?"_   His harsh commander's voice bellowed into the receiver. "I'm pulling you out of this, there is absolutely no way I'm allowing you to go alone with him anywhere, let alone in Rialto where their headquarters is-" 

"Morrison-" You gasped. 

"I gave you leeway because you were confident they would be willing to trade their agents for Amélie! Putting yourself in this much danger is too much of a risk, for any agent, not just you-"

"Morrison-"    

"We can't trust a single thing he says. Whatever he's planning is obviously some kind of trap, he's just using this as an opportunity to get you too-" 

"Jack, please-" 

"I should have never let you do this in the first place. See, now this is exactly why it's so hard to keep a clear head with you, I never know if I'm just letting you do whatever you want because I love you or because I'm trusting you as an agent and-" 

"Jack! Please!" You sobbed into the phone, voice breaking. "She was there, _Arntz_ is with them! She's one of them, she's part of Talon!" You cried into the phone as everything washed over you. She was so angry in her messages, but you never in your life thought she'd resort to something like this. You fell to the floor with the phone pressed too hard against the side of your face and curled into your knees. She probably told Tishler everything. She's probably the only reason he cares at all about taking Morrison down.  

Absolute silence settled on the phone but you were sure he must be able to hear your strained cries that you were trying to hide behind a balled fist. 

"She's there, Jack." You whispered when he couldn't respond. "In the room with me. She's working with Tishler and I, fuck Jack, he knows everything, I think. He knows about what you did, why I have my scars, and he tried to use it against me and-" 

"I'm so sorry." His voice was quiet and filled with shame. "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't understand what was actually happening in that room. I can't imagine how scary that must have been for you." You could hear him trying to keep it together, but his voice was wavering with struggle. "You did so good keeping calm in there, you're so much stronger than I would have ever been. I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what I did to you, for what I did to her. I trust you. I trust you to make the right call on this. If you think the best option is to let him try to ruin the reputation of Overwatch, then let him, that's nothing compared to losing you. If you follow through with it, I want Gabe with eyes on you every second." 

He didn't want to, but he trusted you. It broke his heart, but he knew this was maybe the only opportunity to protect someone Overwatch had failed to already. All he wanted was for you to be safe and make sure Gabe kept his eyes on you through the night. Gabe, who came rushing into the safe house an hour after you were there, promised to keep you safe. He promised to let Tishler get the pictures he wanted for the press and then to bring you back to base safe and sound.   

* * *

 

The evening you spent with Tishler was one you would rather forget. Maybe one day if you were on better terms with Moira, you'd ask her to remove that night completely from your memory. 

You weren’t going in under prepared. You strapped hidden knives into pockets on the inside of ankle booties, holstered Gabe’s pistol high on your thigh under a loose skirt, and you made sure your mic wire was safely secured against the inside of your shirt. Gabe walked with you as discreetly as a super solider could until you reached the river walk where Tishler was waiting. 

He was easy to spot from far away. He stood beneath the yellow of a street light and cradled a big bouquet of deep red roses in his arms. You approached him slow as Gabe held back making sure Tishler knew he was there, but that he stopped, you studied the long scar along the side of his head as he smiled at you and his slimy expression made your chest tighten.

“Smile. This is a happy occasion, remember?” He growled through smiling teeth as you got to his side and he held the flowers out to you. You didn't move. "Take them or I'll order my agents to start cutting off Amélie's fingers." 

That got you moving. You held hesitant hands out accepting the bouquet that was bigger than your head and carried it awkwardly in your arms as he placed a hand at the middle of your back and led you down the cobble streets. As you walked, he spoke to you as if you weren't there under duress. His voice was silky smooth as he described the delicacies at each of the local restaurants around you. Fed up with the familiar and friendly way he spoke, and the way he pushed just a little too hard on your back, you darted into the next place you passed just to get it over with.     

He sat next to you in the booth instead of across the table, he sat too close. You let the flowers fill in the space to the other side of your seat and you tried to read the menu but you were too nervous to read, let alone eat. He spread his knees wide under the table, wider than he need to, pushing your legs to the side as you tried to scoot away from him. Suddenly a large arm was wrapped around your shoulders holding you close to him and he turned his face to the side to speak against your ear. 

"Looks like some of the paparazzi are already here, play nice for the cameras, now. I don't ask twice." When his face turned away he still had a smile on his lips and it chilled you to the core. In the interest of keeping Amélie, and possibly yourself, alive you leaned against him. He must have felt you shaking from fear, the hand at your shoulder rubbed in false comfort until he dropped below the sleeve hem and over scarred skin. "Such a strong woman like you falling for a man like Jack Morrison, it's a disgrace." 

"He's more of a man than you could ever wish to be. At least he keeps his hands to himself." You smiled at the waiter who appeared before your table, hoping somewhere in your eyes he would realize something was wrong, but he had that long day of customer service glaze over in his eyes and asked instead what you'd like to order.

Tishler decided to order for both himself and you, which made you get a little sour with the waiter and correct your order to the exact opposite of what he said. As soon as you were left alone with him again you were forced into a pretend idle conversation with a fake smile plastered as you leaned into a man who you'd rather slice the throat of than ever consider him human.  

Halfway through the meal that you were basically just pushing around on your plate, too scared to eat it, you looked up and saw Gabe was sat alone on the other side of the resturant facing your direction. In the corner of your eye you spotted a smirk from Tishler who placed his dinner knife gently on the plate, then slipped his hand beneath the table and onto your knee making your body jump at the sudden touch. 

You dropped the fake smile and turned your face away from the cameras of paparazzi attempting to be sly as they recorded your dinner with the Not Strike Commander. Gabe saw your reaction and jumped to his feet, pausing when he saw you grab Tishler's wrist and twist it under the table using every ounce of your special strength you'd denied for so long, bending until you felt a pop. 

"Try that again and I'll break every fucking bone in your arm." You growled through gritted teeth.

"Call off your watch dog. I let the gun at your leg slide, but I trusted you not bring backup, especially not that damn Blackwatch commander." 

"Yeah, right. I know you didn't meet me here all alone." 

"I did. I may do questionable things, but I am a man of my word. Call him off, or you're not getting her location." He hissed. You looked to Gabe who was still on his feet, hand ready behind his back to pull out a weapon and you shook your head, returning to your mostly untouched food. He was back to all smiles and grinned as he popped another piece of bloody meat into his mouth. “Your little stunt breaking into our data centers was cute, but I can tell you’re destined to do so much more than be at the beck and call of Commander Reyes. As I'm sure you can tell, Talon is desperately in need of someone with your skill set."  

"Fuck off." You smiled.

You made it through dinner without eating anything. You made it through dessert with him eating the pastry off your plate. You made it through a horrible night with a horrible man who was going to make Overwatch, and Morrison, and most of all you, look horrible. By the end, he bounced out of the booth and to the side of the table circling his suit jacket around his broad shoulders. 

“She’s in the destroyed remnants of Wrocław at a temporary medical facility.” He threw a wad of cash at the top of the table, raising a snapping hand in the air and whistling towards the waiter. He clicked a pen and grabbed your hand from the table. “Remember, you’re staying here for another 30 minutes. If you try to follow me I can, and will, order open fire. It’d be a shame for the world to lose you in that way.” 

“If there’s an ambush here the deal’s off, Tishler. Not only will all your agents be detained and charged, but I promise you, I will personally bring you to justice.”

“I look forward to it.” He said with that stomach turning smile. “Now, play nice one last time pet. Her exact location is on the card in your flowers." Your eyes snapped to the flowers. You've had them... this whole time? He was writing a little too hard on your hand. "This is my personal line, should you ever change your mind about working with us you'll reach an assistant who will forward the call to me. I do hope to hear from you some day."

He left out the front door and you were left feeling used and disgusted. Right there in front of you the whole time, right there in a small little white card in the roses was her exact coordinates in Poland. You waited in stunned silence until the time had passed before rushing out with the card, leaving the flowers and hopefully your memories of that night far behind. 

* * *

 

Unable to stay out of the field, Morrison left with Ana. He packed in with the strike teams and flew out to the location Tishler gave you, fully expecting to find a body left in the rubble of the destroyed wasteland of a city. He was on the ground with her when Talon forces tried to launch a surprise attack.

The risk wasn’t worth it. The price you paid of a dinner with a known terrorist organization and a ruined reputation only lead to gunfire and and a missing wife. Morrison called for everyone to retreat. He never wanted to leave anyone behind, especially not Ana.

You knew he begged on the radio for her to respond, for weeks after the mission he would roll in bed and mumble her name in his sleep, asking her to check in as he dreamt. You would hear the horrible cry in his voice and watch his face twist as he had a hard time dealing with the fact that he was the one who called the mission and got everyone, but her, out of there.

Overwatch changed when Ana went missing. It changed when she was left behind and presumed dead after recovery teams couldn't find her body. It changed Morrison as a person, made him just a little colder. It changed Jesse, made him just a little more anxious. 

Change is hard to pinpoint. It may not ever be an exact moment in time or a date you could mark on a calendar, but you do know the Gabriel Reyes who left on his plane late at night after you told him all the secrets you'd kept inside wasn’t the same Gabriel Reyes that came back.    

It was days after getting back from recovery trying to find Ana. Gabe looked absolutely exhausted, but you were sure you did too. He'd assigned Jesse to stay behind, to keep looking, something which Jesse would have done regardless of if he had been told to or not. It was document after document you were helping him with in his office. The more you stared at him on the other side of his desk, the more you really looked at every sunk in feature on his face, the more you realized you were about to be violently sick if you kept in your secrets for very much longer.

There were better times to tell him. Certainly you should have waited until the dust settled after losing two of his closest friends, he was under so much pressure already- but there was no way you could have known what would be the breaking point.

“I’ve been lying to you.” You blurted out before your words could manifest in stomach bile again. Gabe looked up from the report he was working on, eyes confused and one brow raised higher than the other.

“About...?” He asked unsure what you meant with the sudden confession.

“I was letting Moira experiment on me.”

Silence.

Complete silence. You could hear the whistles of the far away boot camp and the shouts of angry officers trying to keep their recruits in line. He was absolutely still, face dropping to a stoic seriousness as cold eyes stared back at you.

“I don’t know how to explain this.” Your voice was shaky and quiet. “She was using my blood to test the pain blockers she put you on. I should have realized it sooner why she thought that would have any effect on you in the first place, I should have read her notes better-”

You looked to him and he was stone faced. He looked completely shut down and that made you go into more of a verbal panic. 

“I know you wanted me to stay away from her, but I couldn’t. She was the only one who could fix me. Gabe, whatever she put in me on those days I was missing, the days before you... you know, whatever it was that made me not feel anything, it ruined my internal temperature. I was having these crazy fevers and no one could help, only she could, only she could help.” The words were spilling out now and you couldn’t stop and, _shit_ , were you crying?

He was breathing so heavy. 

“But she fixed them. She fixed them and, Gabe, I didn’t know. I didn’t know she’d do this, I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t know. She used _you_ to fix me, the only thing that would get rid of the fevers was your genetics because they already took to the soldier enhancement serum, fuck Gabe, I’m sorry, I know this is fucked up and I’m not explaining it but I can’t keep this from you anymore, fuck.”   

You were shaking and red faced, fingers gripping into the knees of your pants but he sat there, still as a statue- the only sign of life on the other side were his heavy breaths from his nose. Somehow his reaction was more chilling than anything you’d ever expected. You thought he’d scream, that he’d tear apart the office and run to Moira’s lab to destroy it, you thought he’d burst into an uncontrollable cloud of smoke, but he just sat there, listening intently to every word.

“Please, Gabe, say something! Do you understand what I’m telling you? I’m saying I’ve been going behind your back and working with her! Your genes are _in me_ keeping me alive right now and who one knows if I’ll end up like you or not! Gabriel! Please!” You were raising your voice now, reaching across his desk to shake his arms now just trying to get a reaction out of him.

He very calmly grabbed the backs of your hands and set them against his desk and off his body. You watched, wiping stressed out tears from your cheeks and pushing loose hairs from your forehead as he circled the desk, went straight for the door and very carefully shut it. In the hall his steps went from hesitant to sprinting in seconds. 

* * *

Gabe was gone for three days. Three days and not a single person knew where he was other than a "classified mission" report filed by him while he was taking off from the flight bay. When he returned, he went straight to his office when you knew you'd be heading after this call with Morrison. Even the flight crews seemed worried about him, messaging you when he stormed off his plane returning just an hour before you were speaking to Jesse.  

“I know Reyes didn’t order you to be out there indefinitely. Retreat McCree, that’s an order.” Morrison barked into the phone as you sat on his desk and buried your face in your hands.  

“I ain’t comin’ back, not without Ana.” He was hurting and it was so painfully obvious even through the phone. “Frankly sir, I don’t care what your orders are. I’m findin’ her and I’m not comin’ back ‘till I have her.”

“Jesse, listen to me. We’ve already had strike teams sweeping the area. She’s gone. Our best bet is to put together a counter attack plan on Talon, I’m sure if we can break through their barriers we can find both Ana and Amélie. Please, come back.” You were pleading into the phone and Morrison placed a hand at the small of your back. Something wasn’t sitting right in your stomach. Not with the way Gabe left, not with the way Ana disappeared. If you lost Jesse too, that might kill you with heartbreak.  

“I’m sorry sunshine.” His voice was softer, maybe Morrison couldn’t tell, but you could hear the lump his throat as if he’d been crying.  

You looked to Morrison who was chewing the inside of his lip. He brought the hand on your back to your shoulders and squeezed you close before speaking again.

“Two weeks, McCree. I want you checking in at least every other day, even if it’s just a message to one of us saying you’re alive. We don’t want to lose you out there either.”

His fingers squeezed into your arm and you rested your head on his chest. The light buzzing of the phone call droned away through the room for a moment as Jesse hesitated on the other end.

“Thank you, sir.”  Jesse ended the call and you were left with a silence that hurt your heart. 

Morrison slipped his hands in your hair, fingers curling locks and absentmindedly braiding and unbraiding strands as you half listened to news headlines scrolling by on Morrison's monitors and leaned your forehead forward onto his chest. 

“What the hell?” He said in a panicked voice, suddenly turning up the volume.

You watched in horror as it was announced to the world that Carson Petras was found murdered on the grounds of the Petras estate in the mountains of Switzerland. A worried news anchor spoke with a careful voice advising the public that the perpetrator was a masked assailant the global forces believed to have been responsible for at least two other murders- one in India, a well known technology pioneer Nachiket Korpa and one in the UK, an american businesswoman known as Cora Booker, were both found murdered in exactly the same fashion over the last few days.

Then they showed the security camera footage.

Your stomach almost escaped your throat but you kept it down and played it off as a cough.

You recognized that beat up Talon uniform.

You recognized that skull like mask, but you wished you didn’t.

The news anchor gave the masked man a name fit for a super villain, begging the public to stay vigilant and report anything suspicious. Morrison put your hand on your shoulder feeling you shaking beneath him.

“Shit that’s Petras’s partner, I need to make some calls, you should probably go see if Gabe knows anything about this. Korpa and Booker were known members of Talon, right?” Morrison’s question was genuine but you were desperately trying to hide that all the color had drained from your face.

“Gabe and I had suspicions Carson Petras was high in Talon leadership, but it was just speculation, we didn’t have any proof.”

“It looks like one of their own is going rouge then." Holy shit. You were going to throw up. 

"I'll catch up with you later, give Petras my condolences." You shouted as you sprinted out the door.

Your heart was pounding as you entered Gabe's office. _Please_ , you were begging in your mind, _please let it be a coincidence_. You tried to hide your nerves, tried to play this off for anyone seeing you walk by in the halls, but it terrified you to think he would do something like this. It terrified you to know he was capable of something like this. You didn’t want to believe he would.  
  
He looked absolutely casual when you came in, boots up on his desk, screens rotating above through different news stories and agent files. He even looked partially surprised to see you checking in on him so late in the day.  
  
“Gabe, I need to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me.” You sputtered out without even so much as a ‘hello’. Your voice was shaking and he could tell but his face twisted into a snarl.  
  
“Honest like you were about working with Moira behind my back and why you were healing so quickly, or actually honest?” He sounded so bitter and you couldn’t help the horrible sinking feeling in your stomach that felt like little knives twisting deep in your gut.  
  
“Please. I need you to tell me the truth.”  
  
“About what?”  
  
“Did you kill them?”  
  
He was quiet.

He was quiet for way too long.

It shouldn’t take him this long to think about it. He didn’t even ask who you were talking about and _fuck_ it’s because he already knew. He kept his eyes on yours, unwavering and unapologetic.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Fuck, Gabe.” You hissed as you fell into the chair across his desk, knees giving out beneath you and you covered your mouth like you were going to be sick. “Fuck. Gabe. I don’t understand, we didn't even know for sure if Petras was even-”  
  
“I couldn't think. The only thing I knew in the moment was that I had to get away from you.” His voice was suddenly quieter, hands nervously playing in his lap.  
  
“Why didn’t you just talk to me? You’ve helped me through my attacks, I could have helped you through but it was like you just completely shut down!”  
  
“I would have hurt you!” He dropped his legs from his desk.  
  
“Bullshit! I know you can control yourself Gabe, I could have talked you down!”  
  
“I had already lost myself, I couldn’t think straight! Do you know what I would have done if I stayed here with you?" His eyes were staring at your throat and it felt like every muscle in your body tightened. "Nothing would have stopped me. I was being consumed by this horrible darkness and I was so far in it that I didn’t care about the consequences. It felt exactly like it did the night I hurt you. After everything that’s happened and everything you told me, I couldn’t stop it anymore. It was like something snapped in me. I had to leave, I had to get away from you and everyone I care about otherwise I was afraid I’d give in. I got on the plane and I just took off because I knew I couldn’t be around anyone."  
  
He was standing now, ripping off his beanie and pacing with hard steps behind his desk chair.

You tried to speak but it felt like your voice was broken.   
  
"But then these thoughts were taking over and it was this gut feeling, this obsession that those Talon assholes needed to die, they started this and they wronged us and the only way to pay for what they did was with their lives-”  
  
“There’s security videos, Gabe.” You choked out, leaning forward on his desk with your hands covering your mouth. Silent tears fell from the corners of your eyes and this was too much, it was overwhelming. He was scaring you. “The Petras estate had cameras everywhere. You didn’t _just_ kill Carson, you made them suffer. It was brutal. It was horrible. And now it’s all over the news, _you’re_ all over the news. Do you understand what you’ve done? There’s video of you murdering someone and using your smoke to escape. This is so fucking bad. You have to get rid of the mask, if anyone finds it-”  
  
“It’s safe in the plane.”  
  
“Someone besides me is going to piece this together! Gabriel, this is so fucked up. If anyone else realizes it was you, I won’t be able to protect you.”  
  
“I don’t expect you to.”  
  
He sank back into his chair and leaned forward against the desk, hands clasped together. You were left to wonder in a beat of silence, was this his turning point? Is this where he’s gone too far? Where you’ve lost him?  
  
He still looked like himself.  
  
He still sounded like himself.      
  
“Do you know what they’re calling you?” You asked through a breathless whisper.      
  
His dark eyes met yours and he was unflinching as he said the name you wished had never been uttered in the first place- a name that would haunt you, just like he would, for the rest of your life.  
  
_“Reaper.”_  
 

 

 


	33. Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1 rose, 2 rose, 3 rose, 4. How many roses before the gore?

**Rose I**

Two weeks since Tishler. You were spending countless hours nervously refreshing gossip websites and side eyeing the trashy magazines at the store near base when you went grocery shopping with Morrison late in the evenings. Two weeks and there was absolutely nothing, not a trace or even a rumor of the night you spent with that awful man. You could see the silence on it was making Morrison nervous too, he was just a little more jumpy than usual, just a little more clingy. Neither of you were saying anything about it, but you saw the hidden tabs on his phone and the news alerts setup up in his office that searched for anything relating to you.

Two weeks of anxiously waiting around, two weeks of anxious glances over your shoulder, two weeks of one word messages from Jesse- who made it very clear he still had no intention of coming back.

Two weeks of Gabe speaking to you only in passive aggressive terms as you worked side by side with him.

You sat dead-faced with eyes burning at Gabe during meetings where _a certain name_ would be spoken through whispers and fearful rumors. You glared and he would stare back with cold eyes and it hurt your heart like a needle digging in your veins that this was how things were now. But, even with the icy interactions and angry digs at each other, he wouldn’t let you be alone. If you weren’t with him in his office, sitting in uncomfortable silence trying to pick up the slack of a dead commander, or running practices for field agents with in him on the running track, he would walk you to the commander floor making sure Morrison was already in his room, no matter what you were doing, he refused to leave you completely alone.

Morrison blamed Gabe's over protective behavior on the loss of too many team mates and Blackwatch coming apart. He could see the cold indifference in Gabe’s eyes, the loose canon responses to missions falling apart, but could feel how fearful he was about you being by yourself. He couldn't blame him, Morrison felt exactly the same way. He was more worried that aside from Gabe and Jesse Blackwatch now boasted a total of a couple dozen agents- many of them now outright refusing to deal with Talon combat missions, too afraid of coming across _The Reaper_.

It was _two weeks_ of suffering and waiting for the other shoe to drop, before you were sitting quietly in Gabe’s office when a delivery omnic came knocking. Your eyes followed Gabe as he answered his office door then let out a noise of pure disgust as soon as the delivery was in his arms. All at once Gabe was cursing in Spanish, turning to face you and angrily spouting off beneath his breath. In his hand was a single deep red rose and a little white card tied around it presented in a thin black box. You felt like the wind was knocked out of you as you saw your name hand written in cursive across the card. 

“You don’t think…?” You looked up to meet Gabe's face, his eyes had gone all black and his expression beyond pissed off. He knew exactly who sent this to you.

“What does the card say?” He asked through gritted teeth, not even attempting to hide his eyes or pretend like he was worried about your reaction to them. You took the flower from him and carefully parted the little white card, touching as little of it as possible with your fingertips as if it'd burn into your skin.

“It’s a phone number.” It was the same phone number he wrote into your hand before leaving the resturant, the number you spent hours washing off in the hottest water you could find immediately after wanting to forget.

“If we call, can you track it?” Gabe immediately started moving files around on his screens getting you to a coding setup, you watched the way his breathing shuddered with strained control.

“Normally I would say yes, but I already know he routes his calls through secondary parties. If we wanted to get an exact location on him I’d have to talk to him for a pretty long time.” You could see it, the subtle shift in Gabe’s all black eyes, like a little glimmer of something dangerous. “I won't do it if you're only going to kill him. You’ve done more than enough, Gabe. We’re going to do this the right way. You don’t get to solve every problem with your shotguns.”

“A man like that doesn’t deserve justice. He deserves death.”

“Maybe, but not from _you._ ” You stood and balled a fist at your side. 

Your heart skipped a beat when you realized where you put the emphasis on that. _Not from Gabe._ A scary thought ran through you. The passing thought of killing Tishler yourself lit a little fire deep in your stomach.   

"And what? You think _you_ can take him now that you're a discount super solider?" Gabe stood too, nostrils flaring and endless eyes staring into yours. Something about that cut right into your core, it was a dirty low blow that he only took because he was still sour about everything. You bit the inside of your cheek, stopping yourself from saying something on the same level of petty and mean back. 

"I'm not fighting with you about this right now, we have something more important we need to focus on. What would you like to do about the phone number, _Commander Reyes?"_ Your tone was facetious through gritted teeth and he made a snarling face in response. 

"Don't you pull that 'Commander Reyes' shit with me, I know you're only doing that to be a brat. We're calling it and you're going to track it. If we get a location, we're heading out and at the very least reconning."

You begrudgingly sat at his desk and setup the tracking, biting back your deep seeded urge to talk back or fight his order. Even before calling the number, you shook your head knowing you probably wouldn't last long enough on the call to trace it- not when you already knew he'd likely be rerouting it through multiple ports. Tishler was not a stupid man, insane yes, but stupid no. He knew exactly what you did, he knew you'd try to track him if you called and you were positive he'd take as many precautions as possible to avoid you finding him.     

You looked to Gabe, taking a final big breath as you dialed the numbers written in the card. He stood leaned against his desk, focusing endless black eyes on your screen carefully as the the line trilled. 

“It seems you forgot your flowers after dinner.” Tishler's smooth as honey voice filled the room before you could even speak.

“Fuck off.” You spat out before you could stop yourself and Gabe shot you a disapproving look.

“My, my. Such dirty language from a pretty mouth, has that commander of yours not taught you any manners?”

“If you sent this number because you're asking me to join Talon again the answer is still no.” You looked to Gabe, locking eyes with him. “Why would I ever want to join when it seems like you can’t even keep your people alive?”

“My colleagues never did take quite the same precautions that I do, it’s a shame really.” Tishler let out a disgruntled sigh. 

“It’s a shame Reaper couldn’t get _you_.” You felt disgusting while the bitter words left your lips. Gabe gripped a fist against his stomach in his hoodie pocket and turned his face away from you. He looked... guilty? You cleared your throat and tried to focus on the conversation you should be having. “What did you actually want, Tishler?” 

“I wanted to tell you that I didn’t appreciate you leaving my gift behind, I found it to be quite rude. It appears you have a problem with politeness.”

“I don’t give a shit about your flowers.”

“What a nasty thing to say. Well, at the very least I’d like a thank you.”

“The only thank you that you’ll ever get from me is when you stop breathing.”

Something about the way Tishler spoke to you just cut right into the bitter angry part of you that used to be reserved only for Morrison, but this was much more poisonous. Maybe it was because of how he acted in person, maybe is was because you knew he took vulnerable people from the street and experimented on them, but it scared you more that maybe it had nothing to do with him at all, that maybe it was because you were giving into something darker.

“How very cute. At any rate, I wanted to hear a thank you from you because, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, those pictures of us have yet to surface.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I suppose it's time I told you the truth. No one was ever recording us, I just _had_ to know who this woman was that could keep the Strike Commander’s attention, run with Blackwatch, and is the object of so many discussions between myself and my lovely assistant Kiri.” Arntz’s first name rang over the phone and your whole body cringed in on itself. He shouldn’t be saying her name, you hated hearing him say it and it sounded more like a curse word when it left his lips than it did a name. “Sorry to deceive you pet, but it was just too tempting. I never intended to give you that french bird’s whereabouts, nor to ever ruin what you have with the poster boy- although Kiri is quite upset with me for not doing so.”

“You’re an absolute pig.” You snarled out. “What, kidnapping people doesn’t thrill you anymore? You have to go to great lengths to make me uncomfortable just to feel something?”

“Hm, we must fix that attitude.” His deep voice chuckled on the other end, somewhere distant in the background you heard panicked squealing. “Do you know how many flowers are typically in a bouquet?”  

“A dozen...?” His question caught you off guard. 

“Good girl.” The noises in the background were getting closer, the phone clicked and his voice now echoed as if he was on speaker phone. “You should understand that I don’t appreciate your impolite behavior to my generous kindness. I have someone with me that also does not appreciate the attitude, a little Blackwatch rat we found sneaking around our base a few nights ago.”

“Commander Reyes, help me-!” A voice came screaming over the phone, it was so loud it felt like it was going to shatter your ears. "He's killing me-!" Their screams were so sharp and terrified, you froze. Tishler was shushing the person as you heard sickening cracks.

Gabe slammed his hand down next to the phone, black smoke pluming off the back of his knuckles and endless eyes pointed at the speaker. He shouted the name of an agent who you assumed was currently at Tishler's hand. Gabe looked like he was about to break through the desk. Noises of a muted struggle continued into the phone. You sat in a tense silence, Gabe gripping too hard into the metal of his desk, you covering your mouth trying not to shake listening only the brief noises of gasps and grunts coming from the other end of the call.

There was nothing you could do. There was nothing Gabe could do. Your program wasn’t going to be fast enough to save the Blackwatch agent, let alone fast enough to even figure out where in the world they are.

“My apologies for the delay.” Tishler huffed out, almost as if he was out of breath. “We’re still perfecting the biochemical poison we’ve been working on and it appears this particular test did not act as quickly as intended. I had to take matters into my own hands. I'll be sure to send their identifying information back as soon as possible so you can notify their family.”

"You can't be serious-" Gabe gasped as his knees gave out, he dropped to the floor and he buried his face in his arms. 

You weren’t letting him do this. You were so mad at him, disgusted in him, but you weren’t letting him fall apart like this- not while Tishler was listening. You curled your nails into his shoulder and held him tight.

“You killed one of our agents because I didn’t take your fucking flowers?” 

"I would have let him go if you asked nicely, but it appears you have a problem being polite." The phone was back against his ear instead of over speaker. You glanced to your screen, the program still scrubbing through for an exact location. "I suggest keeping track of my gifts this time." 

With that he was gone. 

You were left in a buzzing silence, your mind filled with the smoke of a forest fire clouding every thought and every rational word that wanted to escape your throat. Your fingers were gripping too hard into Gabe's shoulder, but he didn't shake you off. Your nails dug into his sweatshirt but you leaned forward trying to ignore the twisting in your stomach. His arm crossed his body to wrap around your fingers and hold tight. 

"We should pull everyone, Gabe. We can't take chances of anyone left in Blackwatch getting taken by him." 

"We're just playing into him if we do that!" He angrily turned to look at you. "Blackwatch is staying active, I'm not going to let one asshole be the reason this team shuts down. Fuck him." Gabe stood, throwing your hand from his shoulder. "Come on, bring that stupid flower. We're telling Jack about this, unless you want to keep this a secret from him too." 

"Stop. I already feel horrible enough Gabe. I don't need you, _of all people,_ to make me feel worse about not telling him about everything." 

"How long do you think you can keep it a secret from him, hm? How long do you expect _me_ to keep it a secret? Do you understand how fucking terrified I am thinking one day you're going to end up just like me? Look at me-" He grabbed your shoulders hard, forcing you to face him and stare into his endless black eyes. "He won't understand. He won't know how to handle it. I don't want you to be in the same pain I'm in. I don't want you to think the things I do. This isn't the life you should have, I am so pissed off at you for trusting Moira to do anything to you, but I can guarantee you Jack is going to take it a hundred times worse and I am _terrified_ of the day he finds out."

"How do you think he'll react when he finds out you killed three people in cold blood?" You tried to hide how aggravated you sounded, but the snarl on his face told you that failed. 

Gabe grabbed the flower, crushing the small box in his strong grip with a low growl before dragging you out his office by the sleeve of your strike team pull over. 

* * *

**Rose II**

Days later, you were running a field practice for what was left of the Blackwatch team when Morrison called you.

“Have you heard another Talon was found murdered?” His voice was careful. Your heart skipped a beat and you turned to look across the field at the commander clad in his usual black beanie scowling back at you, as Morrison spoke you watched him with absolute horror in your eyes.

“Tishler?” You breathed out, the light in your stomach flared at the thought.

“No, Akinjide Adeyemi. I don't want to leave you here alone, but since Petras is still on leave, the other directors have asked me to go down and assure the public that Overwatch is looking into it. I was hoping you could stop by my office before I left to say goodbye.” He had that cracking in his voice that you only heard when he was overworked, something that had become all too common now. You couldn’t stop staring at Gabe wondering if he slipped away without you noticing. Shit, your hands were shaking at the thought that he would do something that brash again. Across the field Gabe saw you glaring at him as if he'd hurt you and froze, dropping his eyebrows and looking at you with question. “...are you still there?”

“Sorry, yeah I am." Your mind caught up to itself. "I’ll be there in a few minutes, I just need to talk to Gabe for a sec. Does he know about this already?”

“Yes. Called him just before I spoke to you. See you soon.”

You breathed a sigh of shaky relief and shoved the phone back in your pants pocket, stalking over to Gabe with your fists balled at your side.Your mind could only believe he could have done this. You were convinced, because he killed the others, that he'd somehow got away and done this while you weren't paying attention.

 _How dare he._ How could he do this _again?_   You were livid. He took a few steps back when you reached him, fists already raised in the air.    

“Did you kill Akinjide Adeyemi?” You hissed under your breath so no one else could hear and beat the fists against his chest.  

“Stop hitting me like a child having a tantrum. When would I have had the opportunity to travel to Numbani and back without you noticing?” He leaned towards you and his tone was so angry and accusatory it made you draw into yourself, his hands wrapped at your wrists to stop your weak assault on him and he held them in the air at your eye level.

“Fuck, Gabe, I don’t know! I feel like I'm going crazy, I can’t trust anything you say anymore. Just tell me, did you do it or not?”

“No.” He growled out. “My best guess is it was that damn apprentice of his, probably saw the opportunity while everyone else was compromised and took it. Jack's heading down there to play nice with the government, we're going to keep a close eye on the situation from here while we smoke out Tishler. Now act like the captain you are and finish drill, or you're running along side them.” 

"I'm going to say bye to Morrison." You roughly pulled your arms back to your body, letting them drop at your sides.

You turned to leave but he pulled at your shoulder and called your name in a tone mixed between anger and annoyance. Catching him off guard you dropped towards the ground and swiped at his feet bringing him crashing to the ground. Across the field you could see the Blackwatch agents slowing their laps to stare and wonder why you just took down a commander. He was staring back up at you with a look of complete betrayal. 

"Don't you _ever_ use those moves against me unless we're training or I'm actually trying to hurt you." He glared up at you from the ground, palms grinding into the asphalt. "I didn't teach you how to take me down just so you could embarrass me in front of my team." 

"I'll use those moves however I fucking please, Gabe." You turned on your heel away from him. "People are staring, get up." 

What an odd scene that must have been. You knocking him to the ground and immediately leaving, him getting up red faced afterwards and screaming at his agents to take five more laps- everyone could tell something was off.

You had to calm yourself down the whole walk to Morrison's office. Had to hold your breath and focus on not getting riled up. At his office door you took a few steadying moments as you leaned your forehead against the wall. He'd know something was wrong if you came in there already looking for hell. All you wanted was to say goodbye to him before he left. All you wanted was to be happy for just a few minutes. That's all you wanted.    

You quietly slid his door open and he looked so genuinely happy to see you. Even though there was a voice droning away on the phone, his eyes lit up and motioned for you to come over to him with a little smile. While the person spoke, you joined at his side and leaned forward to place a little kiss along the top of his head. Instantly it was like your day was brighter, like the color was coming back and your world was being wrapped in commander blue arms. He held you at your side and nuzzled his face against your stomach, you could feel him humming and his lips crossing kisses along the front of your shirt.

Slowly each kiss was getting quicker, heavier, until you felt teeth biting at the fabric and pulling your tucked shirt from your combat pants. He continued kissing below your bellybutton, his hand slipping beneath the edge of your shirt and running up your side. You held back quiet giggles and ran your own fingers through his hair, letting him move your body to his own will, more than willing to let to him manhandle you before he'd be gone for who knows how long. It was just light teasing, silly touches until he trailed down the front of your pants, his hand twisted to rub between your legs making your body jump as he touched you through your pants. Your own hand shot to the mute button of his phone.

"Don't you need to leave soon?" You asked through a breathless gasp, he was usually never this eager to do anything in his office.

"Soon." He was smirking, fingers working between your legs making you shake as he stood to tower above you, his lips to your ear. "Wanted to give you something to think about before I left."    

He flipped you around and had you leaned over his desk, your stomach down against the top and the side of your face pressed to the cool screen glowing idly beneath you. Your hand was lazily over your lips trying to keep yourself quiet as Morrison loomed above you roving his hand over your ass and moved to undo your belt, pulling your pants down to the backs of your thighs.

He unmuted his phone to respond to someone on the other end in his stern commander voice as fingers slid over a small wet spot on your panties. You pushed your hips back against him, curling fingers back into your own hair as your arm covered your mouth. He was so _good_ at doing this to you.

He was so good to you and you didn't deserve it. He just wanted you to be happy, to make you feel wanted and to leave you satisfied and,  _fuck,_ Gabe was wrong- you were the one that didn't deserve Morrison.    

His thick middle finger slipped inside of your panties, between your folds and past your entrance with a whine behind your hands escaping from your lips. Slowly, he teased you, winding you up and making your hips grind against the edge of his desk with need with every careful thrust, as he continued some conversation that sounded semi-important. His other hand pushed across your back, keeping you still and comforting you all in one. He pushed another digit in, twisting around until you were shaking from his touch. Fingers curled in you, pushing on sensitive spots and sending sparks of heat through your body until he pulled them completely, leaving you aching and empty and he was dragging his fingertips slowly along your slit over and over and over again. 

By the time the call ended you were struggling to hide your panting. You were on the edge, a throbbing in your body deep inside of you that was going to burst the moment he pumped another finger in you. He wasn't done with you though, not yet. Slick fingers slid up until a thick fingertip was pushing against your tight ring of muscle and he gave you a few testing prods at your ass. 

"I want you to touch yourself here while I'm gone." His voice was no longer putting on a show, instead practically dripping with lust. 

"Yes, sir." You moaned against the desk as you felt him gently pushing in, stretching you and your breath getting caught in your throat. 

He went slow, even though the finger wasn't that much larger than his pinky, it was still much more than you were used to. Your face was against the desk, blush hidden behind your arms, but you could hear the happy little laughs coming from his chest as he pushed further until he reached knuckle and swirled the finger in your gently. While one finger filled your ass, his thumb dropped below to continue the incessant teasing at your folds. The feeling was making your hips squirm, you pushed yourself further back against him trying to get more than just the swipes across your clit or the light touches evading at your entrance. 

You let out a long whine, fed up with the teasing and needing to finally get off. He took the hint, the thumb finally gave and pushed into you as well and your body rolled with a wave of pleasure. You heard him groan in response behind you and grind the hard front of his pants against the back of your leg. You gasped and reached behind, hand searching for his belt to help him out of his pants but he grabbed gently at your wrist and held it at the small of your back. 

"No time for that. As much as I want to, I do have to get going here in a couple minutes." His voice was soft but his fingers worked you harder than before, forcing your body over the edge and your mind to spark with flashes of white. He held you in place as you shook through your peak and tried to catch your breath in time to the throbs between your legs. 

As you were coming down, he leaned forward kissing the exposed skin on your back where your shirt was pushed up. He slowly slid his fingers from you, careful not to pull too fast and hurt you. Your body fell limp, buzzing with happy numbness as he kissed you still and cleaned you up with soft tissues. When he was satisfied you were back in working order, he pulled the side of your panties back over you, then your pants back up your hips, and helped you into your proper uniform again. Before you could speak to say goodbye, he cradled you against his desk, kissing you long and slow as your body melted into his.

You parted with quiet goodbyes. Hands slipped in your hair and kisses to your cheek before you watched your favorite commander blue jacket rounding out the door with his go-bag and straight to the flight bay and you were left with a hollowing emptiness that hurt deep in your core. 

Stomach turning from guilt of letting him think everything was okay, you spent the next few days throwing yourself into the mountains of paperwork for Blackwatch. Gabe spent most of the days checking in with field agents, tracking Tishler sightings and keep an eye on the public's response to Morrison's interviews and speeches in Numbani. You were rifling through every single file of the double agents, checking manually if any of the files had been tampered with in any way trying to keep yourself busy and distracted. It wasn't until after your third break of the day that had gone ignored, you were finally in the commissary for a late dinner when another delivery omnic appeared in search of you with a thin black box tucked at it's cart. 

Gabe stared at it wide eyed from the table from you. Your heart sank when you got the second rose. This time the white note was tied to the flower with a long lock of midnight black hair. At the bottom of the box a Blackwatch badge rested, the photo ID showing an agent who was supposed to be on a deep undercover mission in an arms gang in Mexico- one that had absolutely nothing to do with Talon, one that had recently died her hair black just like the hairs wrapped around the rose. Gabe lost his appetite. He held his face in his hands and focused on his breathing, but you could see the flashes of black between his fingers and you tried to stay quiet, hoping not to draw attention from anyone else in the commissary with you. 

With hell fire in your step, you speed walked back to Gabe's office and tried to reach Tishler again on the number from the first rose. Gabe was on your heels angrily explaining what he'd received into his own phone, you assume to Morrison. When you tried Tishler it rang and rang seemingly forever without a connection picking up. It rang until Gabe got so frustrated he slammed the phone a little too hard and knocked it completely from his desk. He turned and paced the room and you realized how quick he was to anger now, how quick he was slipping into darkness. But he was still there. He was still trying to control it. 

"We don't know for sure Tishler killed her." He said under his breath, you think to reassure himself more than you. 

"Sure." Was all you could manage. 

* * *

  **Rose III**

Something scary happened when you donned the Talon uniforms in the black box again.

Gabe had on his Reaper mask and the Talon uniform which was still sporting faded stains of blood on the pants that you were trying not to think about. You were in the scratched mask with the mirrored reflection showing beneath the red. At the first Talon check point you watched as agents parted ways for him, lowering their weapons and giving up without a fight and you slipped between them going unnoticed. You expected to be fired at. You expected screaming and fists to be thrown, but it was almost as if they saw what he could do and they were surrendering to him. It was like they were _scared_ of him. 

This made you feel all more twisted inside about how easy it was to infiltrate their data cores now. You were like a lost dog following at his heels while he bulldozed his way through small command centers, walking you through areas he shouldn't be able to but could just because no one wanted to be the one to try to fight him. Gabe would question them about Tishler's whereabouts. When they were useless to him, usually Gabe would knock them out hard enough to give them concussions and leave them for other agents to find. It started somewhat gently, but each check point, each command station, each infiltrated Talon watchpoint it was slowly becoming more and more violent and you were slowly becoming more and more quiet. 

During missions and on base you were also uncharacteristically quiet. Gabe was brooding and silent. Agents were avoiding you both in the halls, avoiding meetings and eye contact. Dinners at commissary were quiet. Running on the track was quiet. 

It would come to a head as fights to and from these day missions would be held in the privacy of Gabe's plane while miles up in the air, miles away from anyone who could hear them. Fights about needing to pull agents, fights about who would have to die next for things to go 'too far', fights about how trustworthy the other person was. These fights hurt. They were so different than how you and Morrison used to fight. With Morrison, it was petty things, skirting around issues without every really actually addressing the issue. With Gabe, fights were explosions. Screaming matches and petty digs into the very core of the others issues and insecurities. You weren't afraid to use the strangling against him, he wasn't afraid to mock that you had intimacy issues. These fights were ugly and raw and _mean_.   

But then there was the mission with him in China. It was when Jesse came back to HQ while you and Gabe were following up on a possible sighting of Tishler, on the plane you fought about needing to address Jesse's extended absence. Gabe didn't seem to care about Jesse's lax attitude and you seemed to care too much about how he was doing his job.

Seething from Gabe's indifference, you were working on decoding encrypted messages in the back of a Talon base while Gabe kept watch for you. Rooting around in the programs it felt like your eyes were beginning to cross after a while you'd been looking at your hacking screen for so long. You had to start leaving little trails for yourself to follow at each of the data points. Little bookmarks that were virtually untraceable but that you could find when you reached the next string set at another endless data port. In the back end of their systems, readable by only you, you marked each file you touched with the tiny symbol of a lightening bolt. 

Gabe was getting suspicious as you worked. He had his guns ready at his sides, lifted and ready when he heard doors opening and closing in distant halls and a set of light footsteps wandering the base, seemingly without a plan before leaving again. He snapped his white mask to you and gave you a nod that told you to pause, which you begrudgingly did, putting away your hacking screen and readying for combat as he slowly pushed the door open. 

The unearthly growl that ripped through him shook you to your core. You took a few precautionary steps back, afraid where this anger was coming from before you laid eyes on it.

In the center of an empty room, lit beneath a single florescent light sat a thin black box with Tishler's signature rose in it. Instead of a phone number, or a lock of hair and a badge, this one simply read 'Politeness is the flower of humanity -Joseph Joubert'. It felt like your skin went freezing cold. Behind Gabe's mask you could see small tendrils of smoke creeping from the open sections around the eyes and you tried to put a hand on his arm to calm him but he shook it off with a hard shrug. 

"We're getting back to the plane." His deep voice demanded.

"I'm not done here-" 

 _"Now."_  

On the way out, you were met with some resistance of Talon agents surrounding the area. Most agents hesitantly held back, bringing their weapons to their sides and aim to the ground. You held your breath hoping to get out of there without incident, without getting shot at, but you should have realized sooner that the Talon agents weren't the ones you needed to worry about.   

It certainly wasn’t the first time you’d seen Gabe kill someone, but it still shocked you.

You’d seen security footage, watched classified military videos of his time spent serving during the war- he was not shy about the fact that he had killed before and was willing to do it again- but it was the first time you saw him do it so cold and so brutally and in person. He wasn’t doing it to protect himself, it wasn’t defensive. You stood back away from all the other Talon agents, hands open at your sides shaking as if you were going to reach out to stop him, but unable to do anything.

With every snapping neck you were reminded he was killing just because he could. Every blade into an exposed neck, that he was killing because he was _angry_. Frozen from fear, you backed up away from the other agents who must have thought you were part of them and too afraid to fight back. You watched in horror until it was just you and him standing and he was left panting, surrounded by bodies in a foreign country with smoke pouring from his shoulders and his mask and you should have been terrified of him. You should have been afraid of him, but you were only afraid of getting caught. 

Hands at your neck, smoke, black eyes, secrets from your commander- it struck you that even though his murders surprised you, there was a certain feeling of being numb to it. An acceptance that this was just how your life would be now. That you were spending your time with a man who was falling apart mentally and physically, hunting down a monster who steals people from the street and that _this was your normal._

****Rose IV****

While you were unreachable with Gabe in China, Morrison was left with no other options and too few people to deal with the situation in Numbani. Overwatch needed to call in strike team members rather than relying on the dwindling agents in Blackwatch who were under equipped and overworked to capture a new Talon leader. Morrison called for a three man team to take down Akande Ogundium, or ‘Doomfist’ as his moniker was posted on wanted notices. The contraption he braced onto his arm made him a special case for the strike team to deal with and the three that went to capture him both worried you greatly, but also seemed like the best choice in hindsight. Genji for sheer fighting power, Lena for her speed, and Winston to be able to interfere with the technology.

The fight to put him in custody sounded incredible, the security footage from nearby streets certainly painted quite the picture. 

When you finally got back to base to get the details of the capture you only felt worse about your growing divide between all things that had to do with Tishler and how you'd been so blind to things going on around you.

Genji had been outfitted in his new armor, something you'd seen in passing but not registered it was him because his face was hidden and he was glowing in green. Genji looked completely different now with the top half covered in the sleek steel. Your heart felt so heavy that he'd let your friendship with him slip away just because you weren't talking every day. It had been a while since you'd taken any time to be alone with him, so it felt extra nice when you sat with him on a bench outside the Blackwatch building soaking in the warm sunshine and he showed you that he could change the colors of his lights. Gabe stood in the distance, pretending to watch a Blackwatch afternoon practice, still keeping you in his sights but you didn't mind because you thought maybe it'd be best if you watched him, too.

“I don't like the new face plate.” You scrunched your nose and pushed up the top half so you could see his eyes. “I can't see your hair with it!”

“Here-” Genji laughed and snapped off the top so you could see his black hair matted down from the head piece.

“You're right, I am super jealous. You look super cool.” You leaned a head on his shoulder and watched over the running paths ahead.

“Told you.” He dropped his head to lean on yours.

There was a cool breeze that chilled Genji's metal armor as your skin brushed against it. You both sat in the quiet of the afternoon just giving yourselves a moment to process, both of you with things weighing heavy on the mind. You asked him how capturing the new Talon leader went, a fight he described that sounded more like a battle from a cartoon than one you'd ever see in person. He was still somewhat struck by Winston, still talking about him in the same way a child would describe a superhero, but it made you smile as you kept your body weight against his. He spoke with an upbeat voice, but you could hear something in it was wavering, that he was trying to tell you something but was skirting around it and the way his now matching hands were nervously twisting together in front of him was setting off alarm bells. 

"Genji, is everything alright?" You finally asked during a lull in the conversation, pushing yourself up so you could look him in the eyes. 

"Angela is mad at me." He breathed out. You sighed with relief that it wasn't anymore more serious than just relationship problems and wrapped an arm at his shoulder in a loose hug. "...because I'm leaving Overwatch." 

"You-" That felt like a kick to the stomach. It was like he blurted it out without meaning to. No, he can't leave. He can't leave when you're stuck here. "Don't."

Your arms dropped and that was all you could muster out towards him. In the corner of your eye you could see Gabe starting towards you and you snapped to look his way holding up a harsh finger in the air to wait, a finger that told him if he came any closer you'd knock him on his ass again and he stopped. Your face turned back to Genji and he looked at you with such glossy doubting eyes. 

"I do hope you see that Commander Reyes is a bad influence on you. For a while there, you were getting better. Things were... okay. But it seems like he is dragging you down the same self destructive and negative path he's on." Genji's voice was careful with you. Coward. He couldn't even look at you when he said it, his face was pointed towards his lap. "I still believe he is the one who hurt you and I do not know why you are protecting him, but I do know you are both working yourselves to death and that is not a life you should have. It took leaving Blackwatch for me to see what a negative impact his guidance has. Don't get me wrong, he means well, but he does not see that he is trying to fix broken people and he is not whole himself." 

"So, what? You're leaving Overwatch because you didn't like his commanding style?" That came out a little more bitterly than you intended it to. 

"I am leaving because I realize I can not get the help I need here. Overwatch has fixed my body, but it can not fix my mind."

You leaned your chin into your hands, elbows resting on your knees as you hunched over. Genji always had the option. Unlike you, he could leave. It was his choice to leave and even if it hurt, he was probably the right thing to do. You wanted to cry. Maybe you could have if you tried, but you just felt sad to the point that you were numb.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that everything was happening all at once, all too quickly. 

It wasn't fair when another delivery bot announced itself behind you. 

"Mrs. Morrison?" Its voice chimed and you turned as sharply as you could to face it. 

_"Excuse me?"_

"I have a delivery for a Mrs. Morrison, but there is none on file at HQ. The workers in the offices told me to find you."

It held out a box. A stupid fucking familiar black box that made your whole body go stiff. You groaned into your hands and the worker placed it gently on the bench next to you while Genji looked to you in utter confusion. Gabe was b-lining towards you now upon seeing this and you could tell he was already angry just by the way he was walking. You stood and grabbed the box shaking and grinding your teeth together as you chucked it as hard as you could his way hitting him like a spear in the stomach then clattering to he ground.

You tried to say goodbye to Genji as Gabe looked to you in angry confusion and his face turned a tint of green as he looked in the box. You tried to hug Genji tight and tell him to contact you if he ever needed anything, that he was family and that you'll always be there, but you were so distracted by Gabe's reaction that your last goodbye to the familiar cyborg was rushed and forgettable. Maybe if you had taken just a few extra moments you would have seen the pain in his eyes as he left you there with a man who he didn't trust. You would have seen that he was about to leave for a journey that would take him all over the globe and force him to face the worst parts of himself. If you had just spent a few extra seconds, maybe you would have seen that he was going to warn Jesse of his suspicions and start the rolling rock of moss down a long slippery hill. 

Instead you halfheartedly apologized to Gabe for throwing the box at him. He held it out to you and the contents almost made you sick. There was another ID badge, this time belonging to a strike team member who had been tailing Doomfist before his eventual capture. This time however, scattered through the box and in the petals of the rose was a set of human nails, bloody and in tact and you immediately broke into a cold sweat knowing Tishler was doing this just to send a message: He was going to do anything he wanted and there was nothing you could do to stop him. 

* * *

**Rose V**

The fifth rose came to you while you were picking up groceries for Morrison.

He was working late and you rode into town to get your order, finally a moment to your own and enjoying the peace, you had to hold back your visceral anger when you found the black box sticking out of the grocery bags as you packed them into the car- you never even noticed when it was put in. You called Morrison and ranted for minutes before he convinced you being alone out there wasn't safe, that you needed to get back on base so he could protect you. If they could slip a flower into your bags unnoticed, certainly they had the opportunity to take you or kill you- and that was a thought that scared the shit out of you.

When you got back to the room it felt like your insides were burning away with acid. You put away the groceries in the particular places Morrison liked them to be, but you stayed standing in the silence leaned against the counter just lost in your own head for way too long. Your stomach hurt. Your head hurt. Your heart hurt. Everything you were living with Morrison was a lie. Everything with Gabe was a battle. Your family was broken and parts of it missing, part of it here but you were too focused on picking up the pieces of a ruined department to even attempt at salvaging any sense of friendship with Jesse. Your phone went off with a series of dings telling you Morrison would be later than he thought, that he wanted you to go find someone to stay with for now otherwise he'd worry about you all alone. 

So you wandered. You didn't want to go to Gabe just to fight- you didn't want to explain to Morrison why you weren't with him like you'd usually be after bad days. You decided on maybe finding Jesse, but you took the stairs, too afraid of seeing your reflection in the mirrors elevator walls and having the deal with the sunken in look of dread that crossed your face more often than not each day. 

Of all people, you found Reinhardt in the stairwell. He looked like he hadn't slept in a month, the top of his head was greasing his blond hair, face just a little more hollow than usual. He tried to fake a smile for you when you saw him, but he was so painfully obviously hurting. He was looking at his phone, eyes watering from the corners and bottom lip quivering as he tried to force a happy mask on. 

"My apologizes! Didn't quite hear you coming!" Fake laugh. His chest was shuddering as if he'd already been crying. 

"I could really use some company right now." You choked out and his demeanor immediately changed. Suddenly he switched into this broad shouldered protective bear that was wrapping an arm around you and leading you to his room as he faked his way through a boisterous story. 

He was wiping the tears from his eyes and searching his little fridge for food to reheat and he sat you at the same counter as before rattling on about some German dish that honestly sounded a little gross, but you studied the way he was moving with just a little twitch in his arms, the way his face tensed when he tried not to cry and before you knew it you were reached over his counter and placing a hand on his big arm getting him to stop moving. 

"I'm sorry about Ana, Reinhardt. You don't have to pretend like everything's okay. I'm sure as hell not doing okay. I can't imagine what you must be feeling right now." 

He froze and stared at you as if you spoke in tongues, but slowly, his expression softened and he placed cold food against the counter. 

"They still have not found her body. If she is dead, I just want to put her to rest. If she is there out there, I just wish she would give me a sign." He leaned forward, elbows resting on the counter and you finally saw his shoulders drop and his true feelings showing. "The worst part is knowing how much this is hurting Fareeha. She keeps asking me for news, she is in so much pain and there is nothing I can do about it."

"You should take a vacation, Reinhardt. Step away from Overwatch and go see her. Grieve with her." You placed a hand back on his arm, but he stared at it with such sadness. 

“Jack thinks it's best if I retire now, but I will fight until my last breath. Too many good people have died in my place for me to forget my purpose. I should have never been with Overwatch in the first place, so I must prove myself and keep going until I am physically unable to anymore. I must protect everyone I can.”   

* * *

**Rose VI**

You were only just waking up to Morrison's gentle kisses on your shoulders when yelling and hard blows in Gabe’s office spilled out into the hall resulting in a violent physical fight between the commander and the agent, or at least, that’s what you gathered after a frantic call from a completely unprepared agent who happened to be there when a fight broke out between Gabe and Jesse.

“What the fuck happened?!” Your voice broke and sent pain down your throat when you found Jesse sitting outside the offices holding paper towels to a bloody nose between puffs of a nasty smelling cigar. He looked bad. No, not just bad, he looked awful. Half his face was swollen and bruising with open cuts from the blunt force of fists against his lip. You could see his arms were covered in marks, cuts, and hits from some sort of struggle. It wasn't just a brawl, it was a beating. 

“Reyes is off the fuckin’ rails, that’s what.” Jesse threw his hands near his face for emphasis. “I went in there to have a real talk with him, but it turned into this so I told him I’m done. I’m leavin’. Quittin’. Can’t stand it here without Genji, without Ana. I never see you anymore. Everybody here seems to be keepin’ secrets and I’m fuckin’ _done_.”

“Jesse, no. You don’t understand-”

“I understand enough. Do you even remember the last time you sat down and had a real conversation with me? What happened to the girl who used to come visit me after nightmares? The one who would shoot the shit with me until the sun came up?” He was right. You couldn't remember the last time you even spoke to him, you don't even know how his time alone searching for Ana went because you'd been too focused on finding Tishler. You stared at him with an open mouth, unable to come up with any valid excuses. “What happened to my sunshine?” His voice broke and you couldn’t tell if it was because he was getting emotional or just in pain. “When I’m outta here, you to stay away from Commander Reyes. I knew somethin’ ain’t been right for a while but then I talked to Genji before he left and it’s like everything made sense all the sudden-” He spoke quietly and you snapped up to look in his eyes.

“I can explain-”

“I don’t want a fuckin’ explanation. I don’t. If what he thinks happened between you two is true, I don’t ever want to know why you’d trust someone like him again. If it’s true I’d spend every day for the rest of my life trying to kill that man. All I know is that he changed. _You_ changed and not for the better.” He took a long drag of the cigar. "Got my exit interview all setup for tomorrow. I'm fuckin' out of here. Paid my dues instead of bein' in prison and now I'm out. I never signed up to be part of some crazy scheme that turns everyone I know into fuckin' lunatics. I never signed up to have a building collapse on me or to have feelings for someone who ended up being a fuckin' double agent."

"I-"

"No, you shut up now. I know you and Reyes there have been sneakin’ off base in the middle of the night and goin’ on unsanctioned missions, too. I know you ain’t been goin’ where you say you been goin’ cause I tried to follow you before and you weren’t even in the same country as me. Now, I don’t know what you have to lie about, but I do know it ain’t good. I know you're chasing after Talon, but I think it's more than that. I ain't dumb, even though everybody here treats me like I am.”

“Please, please don’t go Jesse. I need you here, I need my family here.”

Were you crying? It felt like your whole body was shaking. Please, Jesse, no. That's too much. You can't lose everyone at once. You can't just be left with a commander who knows everything about you and hates you, and a commander that knows nothing about you but loves you. 

“You’re headin’ down a path I can’t follow, darlin’. Whatever’s happin’ here is more dangerous than anything I ever signed up for. Gabe knows I’m thankful he saved me a lifetime in prison, but I’m not willin’ to watch the people around me lose themselves for this damn organization that’s runnin’ itself into the ground. And, I mean, look at you! You can’t even see what kinda person you’ve become! Genji said you barely even said goodbye, you've been mean to people in the halls again. You've been revertin' back to the girl you used to be when you started here, but ten fold.” He was shaking you by the arms now, blood on his hands smearing into your sleeves. “Whatever it is that's goin' on ain't good. I'm scared for you. I'm scared somethin’s changed you. Somethin’ changed in Gabe a long time ago and I don’t know what it is, but he’s been rubbin’ off on you.” 

"Just because I'm not crying every night anymore doesn't mean I'm a worse person than I was before, Jesse." You choked out. "Things have been hard, but I'm better. I can handle combat." 

"You're not _handling_ combat. From the way people 'round here talk about you, you're _enjoying_ combat." He returned the paper towels to his nose. "Don't get me wrong, I am so thankful for how you saved me back in London, but darlin' somethin' ain't right. I trust my gut when it says somethin' just isn't the same about you anymore. Somethin' just ins't the same about Overwatch anymore."  

"I don't-" Here come the waterworks. "Jesse, I don't want you to go. Please- please don't leave." You dropped to the seat next to him, curling your face against his shoulder to hide your tears. "Please, I'll be a mess without you Jesse. Please-"

"It's already done. Made Gabe sign the paperwork before I accused him of being the one... of being the one to strangle you." He wrapped an arm at your shoulder and you stayed silent and you know it only confirmed his suspicions when you cried harder, but you couldn't say anything. "I wish you could come with me. We'd leave all this mess behind and never look back, never have to think about Overwatch or Talon again. We'd take a nice long vacation and pretend like we're normal people." His voice was breaking too and you don't want to look up to see him crying because you knew it'd only make you sob harder. 

You were sure Gabe must have seen you from his office window, you were sat with Jesse below it. It was there in Jesse's arms as you finally cried out pent up emotions for weeks that you decided you were going to do anything to take Tishler down. From the corner of your eye you looked to the building and there in the window was Gabe looming far above. He was holding a rose in one hand, pointing to it with the other with a motion that told you it was time to kick it into gear again and buckle down for another mission to find Tishler.  

Everything felt wrong. Everything in your world felt like it was being flipped upside down and it all started with fucking Tishler. 

You were going to be the one to end this and you were going to make sure it wasn't pretty.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! :)  
> This is the first part of a two part chapter. We're getting dangerously close, are you scared?


	34. Keep Your Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six more roses, rock bottom, and a lot of choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any completely out of this world grammar/spelling errors, I am sick and currently on a lot of cold medicine! ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Rose VII**

Your last few months as an Overwatch agent were the hardest. Morrison was buried in the job, Gabe was working you to the bone, and with Jesse and Genji gone you were walking the grounds of HQ lifeless as a zombie.

“Put on the mask or I’ll tell Jack everything.” Gabe would threaten when you’d refuse to go dawn the Talon uniform, not wanting to see him kill again.

“I really wish you would stay.” Morrison would whisper against your lips before you left with a bag slung over your shoulder and sinking guilt in your stomach.  

‘You’ve changed.’ You’d hear in your mind in a mix of Genji’s and Jesse’s voices every time you made any decision, every time you rounded a corner too fast and mean mugged another agent, every time someone's eyes avoided yours.

You felt like a husk of a woman being pulled in all different directions, unable to see the path ahead you'd set for yourself. No longer able to carve out your own fate, instead seeing it as a fiery inferno in front of you the voices of the people who meant the most to you were pushing you towards burning core. You felt this divide between every choice you made and the world around you as you drifted further and further from perceiving reality the way you once had as an innocent cadet, bright eyed and bushy tailed excited for what laid ahead.

You felt this even in Morrison’s room, late at night cuddled to his chest, you could tell there was a distance of your own creation. Sickening guilt transitioned to distracted conversations so you wouldn't make yourself nauseous talking about your missions, your lies easier to cover when you stayed out for days on end working recon missions with Gabe and Morrison stayed in his office until the sun was rising and the time spent apart was becoming longer and more frequent.

Morrison tried to reel you back in. After late nights he would wake you up with the smell of a freshly cooked breakfast, you’d wake to small kisses on your cheeks or little love notes waiting for you on the door. He did all the things he'd normally do, small gestures that reminded you how much he loved you, but you could see the way he looked at you through the corner of your eye. You saw the reflection of his face in mirrors when he thought you weren’t looking. Morrison could tell something was wrong, that you were hiding something, that you were a fraud.

Or at least, you think he could tell. Sometimes late at night you’d lay awake and stare at him across the bed, wondering if he really was suspicious of you or if you were just being paranoid and starting down the same dark descent Gabe was slipping down. You considered that maybe you were just psyching yourself out, reading too much into the sideways glances or the way he'd ding fingers into the back of your shirt as he stood behind you. He could have just been overprotective, still anxious that Tishler was out there and was locked in on you.   

Morrison was still gentle with you. His big calloused hands would run over your skin and your scars, he would whisper how beautiful you were, how much you meant to him, he'd remind you to breathe as he touched you and mind would blank from warm happiness. He'd roam your sides in the dark of early morning beneath the soft sheets as you faced away from him as he hummed a distant piano tune, you'd hold a fist over your heart and pretend like it didn't hurt.    

But nothing hurt nearly as much as the next rose did.

The delivery omnic came knocking in the early hours of the morning on a Sunday. It couldn't make an expression of pity, but you could sense that it was hesitant in handing it over. The usual white card was missing this time, instead replaced by a postcard and an instant picture of Tishler and Arntz. 

You could feel your entire body tense as you looked it. The image was burning into your brain and you wished you could rip your eyes away from it, but you just couldn't, it's like your brain was stuck processing and you couldn't wrap your mind around what was happening. 

"Another one?" Morrison's voice came from behind you.

You couldn't speak, if you did you might have lost your stomach contents right there. Instead your eyes fixated on a spot on the floor, the rose and the picture fell from your hands and you moved to cover your face before you could burst into tears. 

Morrison picked up the box and the picture and his reaction shot straight to anger. 

"That's just disgusting." He snarled. "Here, sit down. Let me call Gabe."

He sat you down at his tiny kitchen table, he held your hand tight and brought the phone to his ear while he angrily spoke to the Blackwatch commander. You could hear Gabe's voice on the other end matching the same energy. You tried to breathe normally, tried not to think about all the things that happened that lead Arntz to fall to such desperate measures. You couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible. Maybe if you had just answered those messages she wouldn't have gone to Talon, maybe if you'd been able to handle your emotions that night then this wouldn't be happening to Gabe and things would be different, maybe, maybe, maybe.

"No, Gabe she's not handling it _okay_." Morrison scolded into the phone as he smoothed the hair on top of your head with gentle combing fingers and you snapped out of your thoughts. Your eyes fell to the picture again. He was groaning in frustration trying to tactfully describe what he was looking at without breaking either of your contracts. 

Attached to the rose was a postcard to the tiny backwoods town where Morrison stayed behind in a drop ship years ago and demanded your team walk into a mine field. The postcard was bright and happy with bubble writing and a 'wish you were here!' across, the instant picture was Tishler and Arntz standing in front of a destroyed building in the middle of the woods. She was smiling. He was kissing her cheek. 

You wished you could tell Morrison that Gabe already knew why this would affect you so bad, but that would be opening a different can of worms that would only make things worse. He stood next to you, trying to decide with Gabe was the best next step was and you clung to his hips as tight as you could, burying your face against the waist of his pants and hiding that this was all becoming too much. If you looked up now you'd break, you'd see those kind blue eyes and you'd feel the way his warm hands would cup your chin and he would be so gentle with you, too gentle, and you wouldn't be able to take it anymore. 

Your jaw hurt from grinding your teeth together too hard. After rounds of debate, Gabe finally relented and agreed to check out the scene alone. You nuzzled against Morrison's midsection, so thankful he was able to convince him not to take you this time. He kissed the top of your forehead before he knelt down in front of you.  

"You never have to go back there. Clearly Arntz is just trying to send a message, and I know it hurts, but you need to take a few breaths and get back to work. They're just doing this to shake you." His forehead was pressed to yours, fingers slipping over your neck and into your hair holding you close to him. "I love you so much. I am so, so sorry what happened there. I'll never forgive myself, even more so now that I know what it's done to Arntz." 

The days Gabe was gone you thought a lot about how you'd deal with Arntz if you ever saw her in person again. You wouldn't be weak next time. You wouldn't clam up and avoid eye contact, you wouldn't be too afraid to face her. There were times that you spent too long looking at the picture of your pinning ceremony, you'd sit on the edge of the bed you shared with Morrison, looking at all the faces of people who were no longer there to see who you've become. The way she smiled in the picture hurt your heart, you see how genuinely excited she was in it compared to the dead eyes and smile in her picture with Tishler. 

Your thumb ran over Morrison who stood at your side. So much has changed. 

After a while you couldn't look at it anymore. The picture was making your head hurt. You slipped the image from it's frame and placed it with a pile of the other pictures you had with Morrison, your pictures from the charity event and you placed them in a neat stack on top of the bed side table. 

"Would you put those in the safe for now? I want to get them all framed for the house and I don't want to lose them." You told him one night as you ate dinner together. It was only a little lie, really you just couldn't bear to look at them and the happy faces, but part of you did also want to take them to Indiana some day and hang them on the walls. 

"Of course." He smiled at you and your heart flew into the sky. "Hopefully we can get back out there soon, I really want to put up that wallpaper with you and sleep all day."

You chuckled and forked at your food. 

"Me too, Jack." 

* * *

 

 **Rose VIII**  

“No more masks. I want Tishler to know we’re chasing him. I want him to be afraid of how close we are.” You stood in Gabe's office days after he returned with no new information from his solo mission. 

“That's taking a risk. We won't be able to just walk into Talon checkpoints anymore. There will be fights, you won't be able to just stand by idly anymore.”

"You seem to be able to handle that just fine on your own, _Reaper_." 

"Don't ever call me that." He slammed a fist against his desk. He was looking more unkempt than ever, hair grown out long past the point where he would normally cut it, curls falling past the edges of his ears and usually trimmed goatee just a little thicker than usual, and it was there in the office that you finally noticed he had sprouted some grays mixed in with the dark hairs. The scars on his face looked deeper in his skin, age or stress finally taking it's toll. 

Petty arguments continued. He was still so mad at you, still so hurt that you'd lied and hid things from him and he seemed to be taking it harder each day.  

For the next mission you armored up in your Blackwatch uniform. Black combat shirt and pants, Gabe’s Blackwatch armband he gave you so long ago velcroed to your arm, and armor showing off the bone like symbol. Gabe wore his combat uniform, top half covered in the usual dark green hoodie and you couldn’t help but smile when you were back to seeing him in his more familiar attire. 

The fights on these missions were messier. Bloodier, it felt like. You did what you could, hard knocks to heads enough to knock the lights out of someone, but not enough to kill. All the while, Gabe had no qualms with wrapping an arm at someone's throat and squeezing until they were limp or shooting one of his powerful guns into someone's abdomen and leaving them to bleed out. 

Maybe it was horrifying, but you were becoming numb to it. There were only so many missions you could go on before it stopped surprising you, before it became something you expected.  

Mission after mission failed. Another dead end. Another wild goose chase. Another sleepless day running at Gabe’s side and turning a blind eye to him killing instead of incapacitating. You were both grumpy and frustrated. The trail of missing person reports, trails of worried families and crying friends, everything was wearing down your patience, and every time it ended with yelling on the plane on the way back to base. Trying to stop Tishler was sending you to distant places with disappointing ends, he was always just a few steps ahead, just a few too many turns away and at the end of every failed mission your anger was being taken out at each other.

That’s what made finding the next rose all the more infuriating. In an abandoned Talon safe house that nature was slowly taking back in the back country of a tiny UK village, lit by a crack in the crumbling ceiling was a delicate fresh deep red rose waiting on the ground, no box- just the flower and the small card. Out of pure spite you crushed it beneath the heel of your Blackwatch uniform boot, grinding vivid red petals into the cement until nothing but a paste was left and you were wishing it was Tishler’s face instead.

The card this time simply read another Blackwatch agent’s name and all of their aliases, stapled to an instant photograph of them hunched forward lifeless in what looked like a medical examiners chair. Another one dead, you assumed.  

You had a low heated argument on the way back to Gabe’s hidden plane. Even your undercover agents were getting snatched by Tishler, ones that he should have no possible way of knowing who they really were or where they were stationed. If you had the power to do it yourself you would have made the call to go behind his back and pull every single agent from the field, but Gabe continued to reassure everyone that no one had anything to worry about and it was killing you to keep quiet and be an agent that follows orders. You looked at him with such anger and he looked at you with distaste. He hadn’t even notified families of the agents deaths yet. It was like he was pretending nothing was happening, he was acting like he could just carry this on forever until you caught Tishler and suddenly everyone and everything would be okay.

Nothing about this was okay.   

Especially the night after you got that rose. 

It was raining, big drops pitter pattering loudly against the metal roof of Gabe’s plane. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue for take off, he had no problem flying in low visibility, but with the plane landing near a rocky shore and in dense fog outside during nighttime, it was too much of a risk to take off until the skies cleared just a little more.

That night you were laying stretched in the fold out cot of the plane, Gabe on the floor below with an Overwatch standard issue pillow against the metal ground. You were sucking in your cheeks, staring up at the roof in the dark as you both pretended to sleep, too angry to actually shut your eyes. You still had the tiny white card balled in your fist, the paper was dampening with sweat from being held in your palm so long. On the floor you could hear Gabe’s breath slowly picking up, puffs of air through his nose were getting heavier and louder, the same way it would before he would lose control.

“Either shut up or throw your tantrum, Gabe.” You scolded into the darkness. “Your loud breathing is keeping me awake.”

“Why do you never try to stop me from killing?” He ignored your low jab comment and went straight to what he was apparently getting all worked up about.

“I’m not getting in the middle of you and a bunch of Talon agents when I don’t know if you’ll be able to react fast enough to realize who I am.” You should have bit your tongue, but- “I’d prefer to not deal with you attempting to kill me again.”

 _“Stop it.”_ He said through gritted teeth. You sat up and looked to him in the dimly lit cabin, your body looming in the darkness above his as you sat on the cot.

“Oh, _sorry Commander Reyes_ , is it bothering you that I keep bringing that up?”

“How about we talk about you lying to me for months-”

Suddenly there was a hand on your ankle, ripping you from the bed and bringing you hard against the floor of the plane and the crumbled card in your fist went flying across the ground. You knew his tricks. He was too slow for you and you slipped around him, bounding to your feet and putting your fists in the air. He may have had the power but you had the speed, and he taught you how to use that to your advantage.

“You have a lot of nerve to be this mad at me-”

“I think I know the real reason you won’t jump in the fights.” His voice was twisted, maybe even a hint of smile on it.

“I’d love to know it.” Every word was dripping with sarcasm. 

Even in the dark you could feel the way he was reaching for you to grapple, he wanted to hold down your arms so you couldn’t fight him. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could feel the little wisps in the air, you could feel the smoke from his body and you knew now was not the time to go easy on him so you ducked to the side. This was happening for real, he hadn't even tried to spar with you since he found out everything, and now you knew he was coming after you with intent. 

“I-” He missed, his shoulder slamming into the metal of the plane wall as you dodged his grasp and he sucked in air through his teeth. “I think you’re too afraid of being like me. Standing by and watching is just fine, but you’re scared if you kill anyone then you’ll end up _just like me_.”

“I’m not afraid to kill.” You hissed. “I’d kill _you_ if I had to and I intend to keep that promise if you keep this shit up.”   

“I don’t believe you. You didn’t serve in the war, you've never taken a human’s life. I don’t think you could do it.” He was breathless as he spoke.

“I’m willing to kill Tishler.” You were grinding your teeth to the point that you could hear it in your skull, afraid your teeth would crack.

“You won’t be able to, even if you get the chance.” Was he goading you? “You’re too weak, have too much of Jack’s heart in you. He’s always been squeamish about death too. You know how to take me down but you don’t have it in your heart to fully incapacitate me, do you? You couldn’t kill if it came to it.”

“Shut up.” Your hand hovered over the plastic casing you've had waiting in your pocket all this time. Moira’s serum, one she gave you specifically to take down a certain super soldier long enough for you to be able to kill him without a fight.

“This is your chance.” His voice was suddenly serious. You could see his shadow against the dark window at the front of the plane, his body outlined in dim light. “Right now. I’m asking you to keep your promise. I've become someone new, someone who doesn't care about the value of life. I can’t even count the number of lives I’ve taken and to be quite honest with you, I’m not sure I actually care.”

“You do, I know you care. Don’t say shit like that, Gabe.”

His breathing was still heavy. In the lull you imagined he was trying to come up with something witty to respond with. 

“The nightmares don’t even bother me anymore.” His voice was steady and that shook you. He clicked on the overhead lights and your suspicions were confirmed, endless black eyes stared blankly back at you, smoke was swirling into the air above him. “I’ve killed you so many times that it doesn’t even scare me anymore. In so many dreams and so many ways and at this point it would almost be a relief to just get it over with.”

He lunged at you again. Your heart was racing against your chest, beating drowning out the sound of feet shuffling towards you. You landed a blow to his stomach that didn't have much of an affect, he went for your waist to throw you across the room but you skidded to a stop just feet from him. Through heavy rain and heavy breaths you fought him. You fought him in a way you never had before. He was hard with you, twisting your arm rougher than he ever had, slamming you against the wall and making your head hurt before you ducked between his legs and rolled across the room. You were fighting and pushing and punching and kicking it was exhausting you because he wasn't trying to hurt you, he was just trying to tire you out. 

After another evaded grab you were leaning heavy on your knees watching him and waiting for his next move. 

He growled and it sounded like a monster. Your breath caught in your throat, he wasn't looking at you how he normally would. He was looking at you the same way he stared down the Talon agents, the same way with death in his eyes and you always thought you'd be ready for this, but in the moment it happened you froze. 

He took you down in your moment of panic, pinning you to the floor by straddling his heavy legs on either side of your waist until he was sat on your stomach. He was so strong, even as you pushed and shoved he was too much for you to fight beneath.

“I know you’re still in control. Get off of me.” Maybe if you said it, it would be true. 

He stayed silent. Unnerving face showing no change as he wrapped his hands at the height of your neck, fingers pushing your jaw up and holding you above where your neck armor started. 

“It'd be so easy.” He was hunched over you and you reached up to wrap your fingers at his wrists.

“It wouldn't be. I'd haunt you for the rest of your miserable life if you did, I'd make sure you never forget what you did if you killed me.” You were snarling at him but your voice broke as you spoke, your true emotions hidden just under the surface.

“Are you afraid of me?”

“No.” You breathed out and relaxed your body under his weight and loosened your grip on his wrists. “I pity you.”

The hands holding your neck let off as he leaned back and you dropped your own hands to the sides of your face lacing with loose hair against the cold metal floor, he was practically crushing you to the floor as he sat back. Endless black eyes and smoke continued as he looked to you with hurt across his face.

“I want you to kill me.”   

“Don't be dramatic.” 

"I'm serious. I'll show you, I'm serious." 

The hands returned to your throat but you didn't flinch. He squeezed, but you didn't blink. He cut off your air but you closed your eyes and let him try to push you into doing something you know you couldn't do. You could feel the pressure on the armor at your neck and your head was starting to go light but you shot your hand down to the pocket in your pants and flicked off the end of a plastic tube, plunging a needle through his uniform shirt into his side. 

He looked to you in shock. He wasn't squeezing hard enough to hurt you, just enough to scare you, but the serum that plunged into his blood stream made his body go loose and shaky.  

“I can’t do it, Gabe. You know I can't do it.” Your voice was a whisper. Even after a strangling, endless lies, and countless murders, you couldn’t do it. He was your friend, your _family_ , he was a part of you now.

He stayed silent, unable to move the muscles necessary to speak but you could see everything he needed to say in his eyes. The rain overhead was pounding on the metal roof, echoing through the plane as his body went rigid and his hands fell from your neck, his body crashing to the ground on his side and it looked like he was having muscle spasms as he laid perfectly still. 

You sat up, pushing your hair from your face and wiping sweat that had beaded on your forehead. With a few throat clearing coughs you looked to him again once your breathing was back to a normal pace. 

"I asked Moira to make that just in case this day ever came. My intent was to use that and then slice your throat open with this." You dangled one of Genji's blades off a fingertip. "But I'm using it now to show you that I can't kill you, Gabe. If you feel like you can't stop yourself from killing me, then be my fucking guest."

You pulled the collar of your uniform shirt down, reaching to the back of the neck and removing the armor that had been specially made just for him. He laid there with half his face pressed to the metal, unable to talk, unable to move, unable to do anything other than look at you with endless black eyes and smoke swirling into the air. You watched him shudder a breath, you watched a tear fall from the corner of his eye over the bridge of his nose and down across his face into curly greasy hair and you didn't want him to feel like this anymore. 

As he was incapacitated you laid on your side directly across from him and just stared. You watched each tear that fell in silence and you reached for his face, tugging gently at his overgrown goatee. 

"You need to shave." There was no hiding the crack in your voice as you spoke. Your fingers wiped at tears and he closed his eyes. "I think you knew from the beginning that I'd never be able to do it. I'm sorry about your nightmares, I'm sorry about lying."

You dropped your shoulder to the ground, laying on your back and looking up to the yellowish lights on the roof behind crisscrossing metal coverings. You could see Gabe's fingers twitching, maybe from him trying to move them or from the serum still having an effect, but they got just a little closer to you. 

"I'm sorry about everything, Gabe. I know you haven't been handling Genji and Jesse leaving well. I know you feel like you're alone, but I'm here. I promise I always will be." 

You closed your eyes too, your entire body felt sore from the hits during your fight. Slowly your breathing calmed to a steady pace and before you knew it you had slipped into sleep laying there next to him, shivering against the cold floor of the plane as he regained control over his body from the serum. 

When you woke the plane was in the air and sun was shining bright through the windshield. You were back in the cot, laid against the standard issue pillow and beneath a scratchy military blanket. You leaned your head off the cot to see Gabe in the pilot's seat, one hand on the controls the other rubbing a sore spot on his jaw. His dirtied green sweatshirt was across the back of the seat, beanie hanging off a knob above him and he hadn't noticed you awake yet. 

There were a couple new bruises on your arms, but your body felt like it had been hit by a train. You tried to move quietly, to not draw attention as you carefully uncovered yourself, walked to the copilot's chair and sat next to him. He was stretching out his jaw, fingers rubbing little circles on a red spot where you'd hit him at some point in the scuffle last night. 

"Whatever it was you put in me was gnarly." It sounded like this was the first time he spoke since yesterday, voice lower than usual and crackly. "Feels like the worst hangover I've ever had."

Instead of a reply you just stared at him, lit by golden sun, his face greasy and jaw bruised. His eyes bounced to you, whites back to normal as if nothing had ever happened in the first place. You probably didn't look that much better yourself. If he didn't kill you, it felt like these missions were going to do it instead.

He must have noticed how tired you looked still. With a trace of a smile on his lips he leaned towards you, his hand grabbing your shoulder and gently shaking you. 

"Go get some more sleep. We're about three hours from home." 

* * *

 **Rose IX**  

You took a step back from Blackwatch missions for a few days after that. You spent your time with Morrison, sifting through Ana's files she'd left behind and reorganizing remaining strike team members to create full teams. You liked working in his office with him. Instead of sitting across a desk in silence all day like you would with Gabe, Morrison would do little things to brighten the mood. He would try to make you smile or send you unprompted 'i love you's on the messaging system. Sometimes you would sit on his desk and he would do his work as he held your knee and creeped a hand up your thigh until you smirked and swatted him away.

Things were okay for a couple days. Until it was another sunday when you got the next rose. Finally able to wake up with Morrison without an alarm and warm in his arms, you were staring out the window as the bright sun peeked through the blinds, eyes already open long before Morrison was coming to life cuddled at your back.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” His morning voice was cracking as he placed a kiss on the skin of your arm over old scars.

“A little.” You cooed. Liar. You were exhausted, anytime you tried to sleep now you’d wake up in cold sweats and to a racing heart and you never could remember what your mind was running from, but you didn't want to worry him more than he already was.

He let out a big breath and pulled you closer into him, your body flush with his as it surrounded you, an arm gripping you at your waist and the other sneaking beneath your head under the pillow. There it was, that warm happiness that spread across your skin like a blanket and radiated throughout you anytime he touched you. The hand at your waist slipped beneath the SEP shirt you wore to sleep, fingers trailing up your skin until they were resting at your chest and he was rolling your nipples between lazy fingers. Heat melted through you as something hard poked between your thighs. 

"At least make me breakfast first." You teased and pushed your hips back against him, a little moan escaping as he kissed the soft skin of your neck. 

He chuckled beneath his breath and twisted his body until he was on top of you placing a barrage of kisses across your face making you giggle and playfully push him away.

"It's nice to see you smile." He said through his own smirk, holding your face on either side. 

"It's nice to finally have some time with you." You pushed your head up to kiss him, arms wrapping at his neck and pulling him down harder against you. He had morning breath, skin a little shiny from sleep but you didn't care as you kissed him as deeply as you could manage for the morning. The way he kissed you back was hungry, desperate to keep you there, his body moving aggressively to lift you with him until you were pinned against the headboard. 

"Do you actually want breakfast first?" He asked breathless against your lips. 

"Um-" You laughed against his. "Kind of, yeah actually." 

He parted with a final loving kiss before fluffing your hair and starting off towards the kitchen. You stretched out your legs and flopped back to bed taking up as much room as you could before psyching yourself up to start the day. The mental pep talk didn't take long when you heard another, increasingly familiar, knock at the door and an omnic voice announcing a delivery. Your heart sank stories below all the way to the dirt beneath the building and you were left shaking as you held a breath and waited for Morrison to tell you the bad news. 

It was quiet for far too long after the door was shut and you heard the sound of a box opening. Morrison must have been standing statue still for moments before you heard loud clattering of something hitting the wall. You shot up and ran to the door looking into his small living room. 

He'd thrown the box against the door. The sleek black box was a bit bigger this time, and pouring out of it was a single red rose and very familiar looking fabric. The more you looked at it, the more it sunk in that sitting in a box sent by Tishler was the little blue floral dress you'd bought in Indiana and _left_ in Indiana.  

"He was in our fucking house?!" Morrison's voice tore through the still air. 

It was so violating, the thought of Tishler roaming around the farmhouse searching through things just to fuck with you it made you feel like you were standing in a shell of a body.

Something in you broke at the thought of that. You couldn't even hear was Morrison was saying anymore. All you heard was static in your ears and it's like you checked out while you were awake. The loud static continued even when Gabe came bursting through the door prompting a shouting match with Morrison, you stood and swayed completely unable to be brought back to the moment even when they waved hands in front of your face and begged you to respond. Everyone around you was moving too fast for you to keep up, no ones words were making sense. Morrison carried you to the medical wing where a worried and clearly hanging on by a thread blonde doctor checked you out. 

Nothing was wrong with you, physically, as far as she could conclude but she wanted to watch you overnight to make sure nothing happened. You were stuck staring blankly in a hospital bed as Morrison watched a strike team in America break down the doors of his own house. He watched them search for anything else missing, or anything else that may have been planted there. They found nothing and that made it all the worse. He didn't want to destroy the place, he didn't want to plant cameras or bombs, he was doing it just because he knew it would make you uneasy and that was so much worse. 

You were, objectively, fine after the shock wore off. Morrison helped you back to the room and tried to have a normal conversation with you, tried to tell you that the strike team didn't find anything but you didn't want to listen. 

You just wanted this to end. 

* * *

 

**Rose X**

You doubled down with Gabe trying to find Tishler after that. It got to a point where you were only coming back to base for hours at a time and seeing Morrison for less than that. You could tell it was killing him. It hurt that you were gone so much and offered little explanation, it hurt that you were throwing yourself and everything you had into finding a man who knew exactly how to tear through your life like a tornado. Isolated destruction on your ties to Blackwatch, your ties to Morrison, at this rate you weren't sure you'd be able to handle the last few roses.

But you were back in the field. Different day, same dance. Another country, another rose laying in wait before you ever had the opportunity to see it coming. A rose with Amélie's signature on it and nothing else, which lit your eyes with rage. You felt cheated, you felt stupid for falling for it again and again. You'd chased so many leads, spent so much time and wasted so much energy just to get to another stupid fucking rose.

This time, Tishler had his guards waiting outside. Without the masks and making bolder moves each time it was getting easier for him to predict where you and Gabe were landing. On that mission, with a roses thorns cutting into your palm as you exited the building, Talon agents attacked and for the first time, Gabe was trying to push you.  

“Kill them, you coward!” He growled as his shotguns went off. 

“Fuck off!” You yelled back as you slid across dirt and took them down the same way you would take Gabe down. 

He kept pushing you. Every time you each encountered resistance, no matter how small, he tried to push you to do it. It was almost like he _wanted_ you to kill. Each time you'd do only the minimum and let him finish the job if he saw fit. You'd turn your head and ignore the wails of agony, but your eyes would linger on twisted bodies for too long. 

Maybe it was just the exposure to death on every mission for months. Maybe it was your non-reaction to Gabe’s smoke and endless eyes now. Maybe it was the way Gabe was egging you on in every fight. Maybe it was the loss of too many people at once that finally sparked a short wire in your brain. You wanted to blame it on everything but the obvious. You wanted to blame your indifference to the feeling you had in your stomach on _anything_ that wasn’t Gabe’s genes pumping through your heart.

Things really started taking a turn for the worse when you ignored Gabe outright torturing people in an attempt to get information. Normally you'd stand outside and guard a door listening to begging from inside, but every now and then you'd look over your shoulder and bark in that they wouldn't be useful if they were dead. This went on for a few locations until Tishler's goons started catching on and would purposefully send you to the wrong places hoping to catch you off guard and attack. 

They did this, until you joined the interrogations for the first time.  

“What’s taking you so long?” You scolded into the radio.

“They’re not talking.” His crackling voice responded back.

“I’m coming in there.”

“Be my guest.”

You walked into that tiny dimly lit room with stone cold eyes, following Gabe in without uttering a single word. Five of them. Five Talon agents all exhausted and beaten black and blue, with their hands cuffed to the backs of chairs and black sacks over their faces. Gabe clearly had been trying to get this information out of them for a while. Whatever he was doing in here wasn't working and you were fed up.

You pulled off the sack from the one on the furthest right first, unfortunately for him, just because he was the closest. The color drained from his face. Shallow breaths leading to the start of hyperventilating upon realizing there was no help for him, no way out, no one to scream to. His swollen face had clearly already been the landing place for Gabe's fists behind the face covering.

“Couldn’t bear looking in their eyes while you were hitting them?” You questioned Gabe, ignoring the pleading eyes of the agent.

“I hate seeing them crying.”     

“Please- please don’t kill me. I know how Blackwatch works, you guys don’t care about the bodies you leave behind- I-I don’t want to die! I’m not ready- I have a family! My-my wife is about to have our second kid, please I need to support her, I-I need-” He babbled incoherently as tears flowed down his face, both of you standing there glancing at each other knowing no amount of begging was going to do this man any good.

“Where is Tishler?” You reached toward Gabe with one hand as you kept your face forward on the pleading agent, he turned to you just enough to side eye how calm you were as you unbuttoned the pistol on the holster at his thigh. You weren't going to do this with your knives, that would be too messy. 

“Please I don't- I don't know- there's no way I could know-” What an ugly crier he was, it was actually pretty pathetic.

“Wrong answer.” You mumbled.

“There’s no turning back if you do this.” Gabe spoke matter-of-factly.

Not trying to stop you, not _wanting_ to stop you. Gabe watched as you turned the gun over in your hand checking the bullet chamber, clicking off the safety and aiming it point blank in the center of the agents forehead.

You expected to feel something when you pulled the trigger. It was loud, but other than that there was no hesitation, no flinch, no second thoughts, no feeling at all behind it. The agent's body slumped backward as deep red blood and bright pink brain matter dripped down the wall behind him almost heart shaped which you examined quietly before moving onto the next one. Down the line, you pulled off the next Talon agent's covering letting her get a good long look at her slain team mate.

“We should have killed more of you in Oslo.” She spit at your chest splattering saliva and blood across your Blackwatch armor.

“Where is Tishler?” You asked again, this time already pointing at the agent's forehead.

“You'll never find him.” She taunted with a smile under a split lip, and you didn't quite have the patience for that right now.

You squeezed the trigger again and her eyes were wide when her head fell back heavy on her neck.

The third you didn't even take the sack off, you simply pushed the warm end of the gun against the black fabric and repeated yourself.

“Where is Tishler?”

The agent stayed quiet, shaking like a leaf but nothing to say and you pulled the trigger with a disappointed snarl. Next one, same trick, warm end of the gun pressed to the sack over their head.

“Where is Tishler?”

“He’s at his home in Scotland!” The agent blurted out. “He’s there for the next four days, he’s running reprogramming experiments and wanted to personally be there for the injections! Please- please let me live! I’ll do anything- please I’ll even take you there myself-!”

You quickly moved the gun and shot the final agent first, taking both the person under the sack in front of you and Gabe by surprise. 

"Is that all?" You asked the one shaking. The Talon agent sputtered out incoherent words and with a final steadying breath you shot him too. 

Something about killing them put your body at a calm. Gone was the sinking guilt of lying to Morrison, gone was the anger between you and Gabe, you didn't even care that everyone in your little Blackwatch family had up and left. 

It was a moment of relief, temporary most likely, but it was a soothing rush nonetheless.  

Gabe stayed still, eyes fixated on you as you flipped the safety back on, rechecked the bullet chamber, and held your arm out towards him to hand the gun back. When your cold eyes turned to his you saw the whites gone, replaced with endless black that at one time would have scared you, but now it seemed almost normal. His eyes didn’t scare you anymore. _He_ didn’t scare you anymore. Knowing what he did to you, to semi-innocent people, you just didn’t care anymore.   

As he reached for his pistol there was a moment of hesitation when his hand hovered over yours. His endless eyes locked with yours, black smoke snaked from his palm up your arm and to your face, it lingered across your cheek and along the base of your skull as if it was cradling your jaw. You could barely feel it, small wisps that felt more like loose hairs, but you knew the way he was touching you was purposeful. Intimate.   

“Your gun.” You reminded him as deadpan as you could.

With a sharp breath from his chest the smoke quickly vanished back to his body, eyes regaining their whites as his fingers wrapped around the weapon and strapped it back in at his thigh.

"You killed the one that was willing to talk, we didn't get the exact location of his home."

"If Tishler can send messages, so can I." You clenched your jaw. Gabe was right, but right now you didn't care, you just wanted Tishler to know what you did, you wanted him to feel something close to how he's made you feel these months. You left a small hologram message for him, your name and a heart flickering in front of five dead agents for him to find. 

* * *

**Rose XI**

Tishler sure did get your message. He got it loud and clear and responded in kind with another box sent to you as you stood in Morrison's office pretending like everything was normal. 

You stared at the box, dumbfounded. It was huge, at least a couple feet tall, long and thin but sporting the signature sleek black shine the rose boxes usually did. You stared at it with Morrison, your mind only able to conjure up the image of a rose that was as tall as your hips. You couldn't bring yourself to open it. Instead you were frozen in the chair on the other side of his desk, legs curled up to your chest and your arms wrapped tight in a hug at your knees. Tishler was probably beyond livid for what you'd done, if he thought leaving behind flowers was rude you didn't want to imagine what this was going to be.  

“Fuck, Morrison.” You breathed out. He didn't know why you were so scared to find out what was in there, he couldn't even begin to guess what you had done and what was haunting you in the back of your mind.

You watched as he carefully cut open the edges and lifted the lid, blocking your sight from what was inside. He seemed to stare at for just a few moments too long with a blank expression, confusion almost, before his face paled draining to a sickly greenish tint and the lid dropped from his grip. He covered his mouth, fingers holding to his jaw in a tight grip and squeezing his arms close to his body.

“Please tell me these aren’t what I think they are.”  

You stood slowly, circling his desk, eyes wide and staring into the box like it was a minefield about to explode if you took a step too quick.

There are some things you were prepared to see. Death was one you were now all too familiar with. There was a sense of finality in death, a calm blanket of peace that rested over the bodies of the slain.

But this was not death, this was crueler.

Laid out perfectly in the box and tied together with a brilliant black bow at the knees were Arntz’s intricate mechanical legs. Pulled from the hip the two legs were tightly bound together with a rose between the thighs creating an almost obscene mental image. The little white card at the rose was fluttered open, in Tishler’s neat handwriting ‘ _Are you happy with your choices?_ ’ and your knees gave out beneath you forcing you to the floor.

Your reaction confirmed for Morrison exactly his suspicions. He joined you on the floor. He held the back of your head and pressed your face to his chest and wouldn't let go even as you felt his chest bouncing with struggling sobs. He was being reminded that he was the reason she was like that in the first place, you were reminded that you'd taken five people's lives out of spite. 

That was finally what got Gabe to pull in his agents. Seeing you and Morrison in pieces on his office floor after an escalation that he could have prevented.  

When all was said and done Blackwatch was left with a total of ten agents, not including you or Gabe. Once in the thousands, Gabe had a hard time looking on as his entire team filled a room when they once wouldn't have been able to all fit in a building together. Rumors began around base that Blackwatch was shutting down or being investigated. Rumors that when asked about you just shrugged your shoulders because enough not true, you almost wished they were.  

* * *

 

**Rose XII**

You made a few merger attempts to start telling Morrison everything, but each time you would get shut down because of how much pressure he was already under. You'd tried to talk to him about work and he would shut down, instead holding you tight and burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

Late one night he came back to the room to you pacing around the floor building yourself up to finally tell him, he burst in and held you looking you so deeply in the eyes. His voice was strained from talking all day and he was rambling on and on about how nothing was making sense anymore, that he was seeing Overwatch cracking beneath all the pressure from the public and the directors. 

“I’m burned out. I’m making irrational decisions because I feel like I can’t trust anyone.” His arms hugged you tighter. “This is so hard without Ana and you’ve been so busy helping Gabe with Blackwatch-”

“Maybe you should sit down-”

“Maybe _you_ should. When you were gone this last time I put in for a transfer request, for you.” He swallowed and you could see the lump bobbing in his throat. “I don’t think you’re safe here, not where Tishler seems to know everything about where you are and what you’re doing. No one can be trusted. I’m sending you away, temporarily, to Gibraltar with Winston and Lena when they head back in two weeks. Since their watchpoint is isolated you'll be safe until you can get transferred to Grand Mesa since they’re the highest level of security. It’s just until we can catch him, I just need you safe until he's no longer a threat.”

“Fuck that, Morrison! You know I can handle myself. You don’t need to send me away. I’m safest, here with you.” Your head was spinning. He sounded like a madman ranting. 

“You’re not. I know I haven’t been attentive or checking up on you and it kills me. Maybe it’s selfish, but I can’t keep watching you leave on that plane. I can’t. After everything that’s happened with Talon I know something’s off, and I’m sorry sweetheart, but I can just _tell_ you’re not telling me the truth about what you’re doing on these missions. I’ve been trying to ignore it, but I need to know, why are you being so secretive about them?” You could feel his hands shaking on your arms, he was frantic, mind jumping from one thing to the other and you were having a hard time keeping up.

“Jack-” You breathed as a lump was caught in your chest.

“Are you-” He also was catching his breath. “Have you been having sex with him?”

“No. Absolutely not. Look me in the eyes.” He lifted his face to meet yours and you furrowed your brows hoping he could see that, of everything, this was the honest truth. “When we started all this the only thing you asked of me was not to sleep with anyone else, and I promise, I’ve stuck to that. You’re the only one I want, Jack.”

“Then what is it?” His voice broke as his grip tightened on you. “Why will neither of you ever tell me what you’ve been doing on these missions?!”

“We’ve-” You stopped, terrified if you broke the seal all your secrets would come spilling out. “We’ve been infiltrating Talon.”

He stared at you in stunned silence, eyes fearfully searching your face. Every second that passed it felt like your chest tightened until he was bringing you to him in the tightest hug he’d ever given you, knocking the breath from your lungs.

“Do you realize how dangerous that is?”

“More than you realize.” You finally broke, chest heaving in a sob and you grabbed at his back. He was so warm, the back of his shirt was sticking with sweat. 

“I don’t want you on Blackwatch missions anymore.” His voice was cracking as he spoke softly against your ear. “I want you back on the strike team, full time. I can’t have him putting you in danger anymore.”  

“Please.” You pleaded, you still had so much more to tell him. “Jack, please I need to tell you-”

“I’m at the end of my rope.” He held your face and pressed his forehead against your own, lost in his own head. “Maybe I shouldn't have jumped the gun and put in the transfer, maybe I just need to get away from here. I need you with me and I just need to forget about all this for a while. It’s too much. I need a break from Overwatch or I think I’m going to go crazy.” His voice was wavering as if he was on the verge of tears. “I’m going to put in for early retirement soon, then we can both be out of here and try to live without the stress of all this bullshit. Until then, please, I need you to promise me there will be no more Blackwatch. No matter how much Gabe says he needs the help. If I have to watch you leave again and wonder if you’re coming back, it will break my heart.”

“I promise, Jack. I’m so tired of it too. I’ve done things I never thought I’d do, things I never wanted to do-”

“Do you know how many complaints there have been against Gabe in the last few months? We had to start denying department transfer requests because no one wants to be there, all because of the way he’s been acting. I’ve been so worried for you every single day, so worried about his ability to think clearly since Gérard was murdered.”

“It’s been…” Your voice trailed off as you chewed at the inner corner of your lip. “It’s been bad, Jack. He’s not okay. _I’m_ not okay.”

“You both need rest. I can tell you haven't been sleeping through the night and that you’ve been more jumpy recently, but there hasn’t been a right time to bring it up. All I want is for you to be safe and happy and I know I’ve done a terrible job at making sure you’ve been either these last couple months. I think we need some time alone, just the two of us. Come with me, to Indiana.”    

“That sounds so nice.” You whispered and kissed him between your words.

You’d tell him everything in Indiana, where it would just be the two of you and he could have time to process everything before coming back to base and raising hell. You’d tell him when he wouldn’t be able to find Gabe and blame him for your actions. You’d tell him in bits and pieces, small things leading to the bigger and worse ones so you could prepare him for what he would hear.

“Let’s leave for Indiana, tonight. I don’t care about the consequences anymore, I just want to be with you. I just want to feel like everything is okay.”

"Tonight?" You chewed at your lip but pulled back to look him deeply in the eyes. "Are you sure?" 

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life." 

“Let’s go pack.” You breathed out and he leaned forward, crashing his lips into yours.

He picked you up, carrying you bridal style into the bedroom. He tore through his shallow closest for your bags, tossing them haphazardly on the bed and grabbing random handfuls of his clothes. Your hands were shaking and you weren’t paying any attention to folding them the way he normally would, this was going to be quick and dirty, out of the building before anyone would notice.

“I’m sending an out of office now, we’ll just pick the next flight out here and figure it out from there.” He was actually smiling, it was a nervous and unsure smile, but you could see how much this meant to him. You looked to your phone, leaving it on the bedside table finally giving yourself a moment to disconnect from everything, no phone, no Talon, nothing other than the man who had done nothing but build you up and a bag of essentials. You dressed in your plain clothes, Morrison in his with the red baseball cap and a plain shirt and he gave the room one last look over before clicking off the lights and shutting the door behind him. 

In the elevator you leaned on his arm, your eyes met his in the reflective walls and it almost felt like you could breath again for the first time in a long time. He dropped his shoulders as if stress was actually falling from them and placed light kisses on the top of your head. 

You were almost ready to leave. He hugged you at your hip as you waited in the underground parking garage for a self driving car to pull around. He kissed you slow and you were sure he could taste the salty remnants of tears caught in your throat. You were almost gone when Gabe burst through the doors of the parking garage stairwell just as you were loading your bag. Morrison turned to the sound of heavy steps rushing towards you both. He looked frantic, beanie in his hand, hair a greasy matted mess. He hadn’t slept, eyes huge and he was reaching out to you. In his hand was a deep red rose in a thin black box with a tiny white card.

“No-” You pleaded as you stared at that damn box. “Please, no more.”

“It’s Tishler. This is our chance, but we need leave _now_.” Gabe was shaking.

“She can’t keep going on these wild goose chases with you, Gabe. We’re going to Indiana and when she gets back she'll only be doing strike team missions. She's done with Blackwatch. Find another one of your agents to help you.”

“It’s the last rose! We can get him but he’ll only deal with her!” He shouted, gesturing your way. “He’s here, he’s in Switzerland and we have tails on him but we need to catch him before they lose track-”

“Stop. Stop, Gabe. We’re leaving. I can’t keep letting you pull her away like this, she needs a break from all the craziness just like I do, just like _you_ do.” They were moving in towards each other, bodies squared and shoulders back as if they were going to fight.

“We can put an end to his once and for all, right here, right now. Your little vacation can wait until Tishler is behind bars. This is what she needs to do, _it’s her job_.” Gabe was snarling, crushing the box in his hand.

You dropped your bag to the ground and moved to get between them.

“I’m the only one here who gets a say in what her job is. You don’t know what’s best for her, can’t you see how messed up she’s been recently, Gabe? Look at her, she hasn’t even been sleeping! You're killing her with all the work you've asked her to do!” Morrison put a hand on your shoulder, taking a step back so you were directly between him and Gabe.

“Please don’t yell-”

“Fuck you Morrison! You’ve got your head so far down in the sand that you can’t even see that she’s been unhappy for months! Who has she always come crying to? Not you. You're only there when it's _convenient_ to you, when you're not too busy with work or sucking Petras off or whatever the fuck you’re doing in that office all day. You’ve got to be blind to not see what’s really going on-”   

“Oh is that it, Gabe? You’re jealous? You can’t stand the thought of me taking her away to another country where you can’t have access to manipulate her? I see the way you guilt her into going onto these missions with you, I know the tactics you’ve used with all your agents. You think I don't realize that you follow her around and keep tabs on everything she does?”  

“You’ve never treated her the way you should have. Just like every time before, you prioritize your work over your relationships and you can’t even see-”

“Gabriel!” You shouted as tears formed in the corner of your eyes hoping to stop him before he told your secrets for you. “Stop. Both of you, stop. You both sound like children fighting over a toy and that’s not what I am, neither of you get to make my decisions for me.”

"We're going to Indiana." Morrison gripped hard on your shoulders and pulled you towards his chest. 

“You're going to let everything we did go to waste?” Gabe was scowling, holding out the rose in your direction.

You stepped back, away from both of them. They were each looking at you with two very different expressions of concern. Each hurting your heart the longer you looked at them. Morrison said your name with a question and breaking as he shook his head, pain in his voice that you would even hesitate. It cut you to the core, but it was there, stood between your two commanders in that cold unforgiving parking garage that you had a choice to make.

Indiana or Tishler.

Love or Loyalty.

Jack or Gabriel?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ʕ ◉ ͜ʖ ͡◉ ʔ  
> Remember when I said I love you? I promise, I still do!


	35. Blindsided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to The Split™, you've choose: Jack Morrison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so as some of you may or may not be aware the end of the last chapter was indeed a split off point for the story. JFM will continue on as if you chose to go with Jack, but you can also see how things would go if you chose to chase down Tishler with Gabe. [ You can read the Gabe AU, Gabriel Fucking Reyes here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17890760)
> 
> **** Please know, this chapter does have some graphic torture/gore, as always if you have questions or need any additional warnings please please please message me on tumblr/twitter and I'm happy to let you know more detail before you read! :) ****

“I’m sorry, Gabriel.” You shook your head, grabbing Morrison’s hand and holding it close to you. “He’s right. Tishler is two steps ahead of us every time. I need a break. You need a break.”

“We can get him this time. I know we can.” Gabe’s eyes were wide and glossy as you denied him. He was shaking like he was cold, across his face it looked like you just broke his heart into a thousand pieces.

“He’s just torturing us. Can’t you see that? Even if you have people on him right now, I’m sure that he’s only going to let us catch him if he _wants_ to be caught. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.” You tried to be gentle, but you were sure your face was twisted in pain and making this worse.

“So you’re just going to let everything we’ve done go to waste? _Everything_?” Gabe was looking at you with something awful behind his eyes. 

“You’ve done enough. She told me you’ve been infiltrating Talon and I’m done with the secret missions, with her being gone for days at a time, I’m done with you putting her in harm’s way. From here on out she’s strike team only and that’s final.” He wrapped his arm at your shoulders and lead you to the passenger side of the car. Morrison squeezed you closer as you looked to Gabe over your shoulder. “Come on. We’ll see you soon, okay Gabe? Try to get some rest while we’re gone.”

You climbed into the car and chewed on your nail. Morrison shut the door and you heard a muffled conversation before he rounded the car and got in on the other side. Were you making the right choice? Doubt was gnawing away at you.

As the car hovered away, you turned in your seat to watch Gabe through the window grow smaller in the distance. He looked defeated as he stood there, shoulders dropped down and beanie scrunched in his hand with a rose you wish you never saw.

“He'll be okay.” Morrison tugged at the sleeve of your shirt gently until you fell against him and he was side hugging you with protective kisses on the top of your head.

“I’m worried about him.” You said under your breath, soon Morrison would understand why this was so hard to turn your back on him.  

“Me too.”

You laid against Morrison for a while. The ride to the civilian airport wouldn't take long but you closed your eyes and curled against him as much as you could, clinging onto the warmth of his body and the safety of his arms. For now you felt safe, you felt whole again. He was quietly talking about all the things to do at the farm, first and foremost wanting to fortify the building so no one could ever break in again. You listened to him rumble on about extra padding in the walls before putting the new wallpaper up, bullet proof windows, and about who he would try to contact to fix the piano upstairs.   

Not even halfway to the airport, you had just shifted in your seat, sitting yourself upright so you were no longer propped up on Morrison's shoulder as you stretched your tired limbs. He was talking about piano music and what he wanted to play for you next, you turned to him and smiled when your heart skipped a beat.

There may be certain moments in life where the mind goes into sensory overload. Times when you're overly happy, like walking down an aisle to your blond in his formal blues smiling at the other end. Scary times, like a friend who has changed beyond recognition pointing shotguns at your eyes and laughing, or a moment of panic thinking you’ve seen a ghost of your past on a crowded street. In moments like these, time slows down and you watch the world through heightened senses, every moment feels like it drags on longer than it should. Time doesn’t really slow down, of course, but in the seconds you have to call out your mouth refuses to work and in this particular moment you were left processing an accident frame by frame in your mind.

The self driving car you were in with Morrison was slowly entering into an intersection. You turned to look at him and his smiling face, so happy to finally be well on the way to Indiana and he had his head turned away from the window to look at you. There was no way he could have known or anticipated, no way he could have seen a black SUV barreling through their red light before it slammed into the side of the car.

The impact knocked the wind out of you, it almost felt like it crushed your chest in. You could tell the car was being pushed in the wrong direction down the street and that your world was flipping around you. The noise was horrible. Metal crunching together mixed with glass shattering sent panic directly to your veins. Morrison’s dark sunglasses flew off his eyes, whizzing by the front of your face along with glittering shards of glass and his red baseball hat. His eyes were wide with confusion unable to comprehend what was happening in the moment but his arms reached out to press on your chest and keep you flush against your seat as the car flipped on its side and skidded in a mess of screeching metal and sparks down the asphalt road.

There was a quiet moment when you were hanging from the seat belt after everything settled, a moment where you thought that was the end of it. Every part of your body felt sore and you were dizzy. Your broken window was against the ground and you pressed your palm against the road trying to get a sense of the world as it was from this angle. Morrison now above you was bleeding and trying to assess the situation, his right arm was holding his left at the wrist and he was gritting his teeth but he was scanning you trying to figure out if you’d been hurt.

“What happened?” You finally gasped out in the settled silence feeling like you were taking your first breath since the impact.

“We’re okay, it’s just an accident. Focus on me.” It hurt your neck to turn and look at him. He looked horrible, his pupils were blown out and his skin shining with sweat as blood poured from the side of his head over his blond hair and over his face down onto you. “Are you injured? Can you move?”

“I-” You hissed in as you curled your toes, bending them in your running shoes then moving your way up from your ankles to your knees and you seemed to be okay, bruised as all hell probably, but okay. “I think I’m fine, but you don’t look-” You stopped short at the sight of heavily armored boots slowly approaching the car through the broken windshield.

“My arm is broken.”

“Jack-”

“I need you to unbuckle your seat belt and kick-”

“Jack!” Your face snapped to look at him and you belt a burning pain shoot down your neck but you held a finger to your lips “I don’t think this was an accident.” You whispered with fear shaking every word as your eyes lingered on the boots now at the side of the car, there were too many sets of feet to count and you were too confused to even try, but you knew it was a lot.

Then there was the deafening sound of heavy machinery. A buzzing saw that was opening the roof of the car where you were and you scrambled trying to undo your seat belt but the button was locked in and all you could do was cover your ears hoping this wasn’t who you thought it was, hoping that maybe the local EMTs were just speedier than you ever thought possible. Morrison was struggling in his seat too, he looked more hurt than just a broken arm and was moving with wavering motions.

Your face snapped up to the hole opening in the roof, you were met by blinding sunlight and the half masked faces of familiar bodyguards in Talon uniforms.

“Get away from me!” You screamed knowing it wouldn’t help. Morrison reached for you again trying desperately to get out of his seat belt, holding on to you with his good arm as the Talon agents cut your seat belt and started dragging you from the wreckage. You flailed, you kicked, and punched, and tried your hardest to hold onto Morrison but he was too hurt and you were too weak.

They were rough as they forced you into a stumble out of the car and your knees gave out beneath you, shaking from the adrenaline, before one of the Talon agents kicked you hard in the back bringing you to the ground. They held you against the warm asphalt, feet pressing hard against your back as another agent double cuffed your arms behind you, one pair holding your elbows together and the other holding your wrists together. You could see the car with Morrison hanging there, he was paler than ever and was struggling to keep his eyes open. They were cuffing your ankles together too.

You were screaming. You were screaming Morrison’s name into the ground as they bound you. You were screaming so much it hurt your throat, you were begging him to move, to stay awake and help you. No one was around. The streets were empty, why were the streets empty? Why did it feel like there was no one here to help you? This can't be how they get you, you'd done so much to get to this point and this was all too easy. You were still screaming and you could taste the road on your lips.  

“Shh, pet.” A voice came behind you just before a pinch at the back of your neck.

* * *

You woke disoriented. Your whole body hurt, your head was still spinning and you felt almost like you were dreaming as you swiveled your head back and forth in a bright white room. You groggily assessed every aspect, you were strapped back into a hard metal chair around your wrists, neck, and ankles. There was an IV hooked into your arm at your inner elbow, a clear liquid dripping into you. Your plain pullover you wore when you were leaving base was folded in the corner of the room, but you couldn't turn your head to see what else might be lurking around. Everything fucking hurt. Your muscles, your eyes, even where your hair met your head felt like it was threatening to rip from your skull.

With a few blinks to adjust your eyes to the room. Across from you was another chair just like the one you were strapped in, empty and taunting you facing your direction. The two cold eyed bodyguards of Tishler’s were waiting at a door watching you. Their eyes burned into you and all at once it came crashing down that you were likely being held a Talon facility. You jerked your body trying to move, trying to escape or rip the retrains from your body but you were stuck. You tried to scream but there was tape over your lips and all that left you was a muffled cry.

There was no way out.

He got you.

He snatched you from the street like he would any of his victims, and it was so _easy_ because you had let your guard down. You tried to keep your focus, tried to not panic, but one of the bodyguards knocked on the door with hard knuckles and within seconds Tishler’s large body was entering. Through the open door you could see a vaguely familiar office, one you’d stood in before and one that started all this bullshit. You must have been out for a long time because you were in the secret room in his office back on the Rialto base.        

He was smiling. You tried to recall a classroom on base you sat in years ago with some retired agent who was giving a workshop on surviving torture techniques. Maybe you should have listened better, paid attention to every word on every slide that he droned on about, maybe then that would make this less painful. You screamed beneath the tape. The worst part about it was that you could take a punch, you could heal from a bad wound if you needed to now, but Tishler seemed to know exactly how to get you: biomedical warfare. He ripped the IV from your arm and held your chin between two fingers.

“Don’t cry yet, that was just saline to keep you hydrated.” He roughly squeezed your chin before dropping his fingers to touch the bruised section of your arm where the needle previously occupied.

“It must have been you who executed my agents, hmm? I believe Commander Reyes would have preferred to get things done with a shotgun, or as I've heard, with his _hands_.”

You tried to make a screaming noise beneath the tape, a question of how he could possibly know that. Your mind was racing.  

“You’re going to make the perfect sleeper agent. A close relationship with both the Overwatch strike commander and the Blackwatch commander? Two birds one stone, it seems. I’m giddy just thinking about it.” He was cooing at you and you practically wanted to throw up. His fingers ran through your hair, nails grazing across your skull like he was combing but he was being just a little too rough.

As he touched you something sent off alarm bells in your mind. You lashed around trying to get his hands off you, but it appeared that only made him angrier. 

“Behave.” His voice was low and face close as he threatened you, he moved to grip a fist into your hair and pull your head back. "Kiri asked me very sweetly not to hurt you, but I will if you do not listen. You're under my care now. No one can help you here, no one can come rescue you, so it would be in your best interest to sit back and look pretty while I work. If you're on your best behavior then you'll be back in the arms of your dirty commander in no time."

The noises you made from your throat were awful cries ripping through the room. Tishler roughly pushed your head back before moving to a cabinet and opening a heavy door that released a hiss as the door swung out, inside were rows of vials, some glowing in bright yellow or white, others dark purple or blue. He hunched over, debating quietly to himself, stealing glances over his shoulder at your terrified face before reaching in for a white vial. With a smile he connected it a long thin needle, you tried to squirm, tried to shake him away but he ran his fingers over your arm, flicking his big nails to aggravate your veins. He didn't numb you before finding a vein he particularly liked in the crook of your arm and dug his way into it and you let out a burning scream behind the tape.

“Oh, don't worry, pet.” He cooed at you when you tried to tell him to stop through the medical tape over your mouth. “This first one is just a test, after we see how quickly your body takes to it. We have to push your limits before the real fun begins.”

Your world was swallowing you. Your body couldn't stop shaking and you felt every inch of your skin breaking out in a cold sweat. You felt like you had the flu, you felt your entire body rejecting whatever it was he injected you with and it wasn't long before your mind couldn't keep up and your world tunneled into black.  

 

* * *

How long had you been there? Your body couldn't tell minutes or days apart, all you knew was that the only time you got to move was when Tishler's bodyguards would escort you to a tiny bathroom and hold you down when you were already not strong enough to fight back. Your mind was foggy. Your stomach hurt. All you wanted was Morrison, all you wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms and sleeping on a bed you helped put together in Indiana. All you wanted was to be happy, why was that too much to ask? 

Pain, mind blank and eyes snapping open you knew you were in pain. 

Tishler was grabbing you by the hair, forcing you to look up to him and all you could focus on was how dizzy you felt, how disorienting everything was. You blinked too many times as you tried to steady your eyes on his face grinning behind a black medical mask. A burning around your lips told you he'd just ripped the tape off, it hurt to move your jaw as you opened your mouth for the first time since being here. 

“What a pretty little thing you are when you’re compliant.” His voice was hissing and you wished you had the wherewithal to spit on him. 

“Fuck-” It hurt your chest to speak, everything in your body tightening when you tried to breathe. “You.”

“Let’s see if we can get the fight out of you, hmm?” His teeth were grinding together in impatience and in the needle strapped at your arm you watched him setting up a drip bag filled with a dark purple liquid. He had yet to open the cap so it could flood into your veins, instead he turned behind him to the door. 

You struggled in the restraints at your wrists, fighting against the one strapping your neck to the chair and desperately trying to kick off the ones holding your ankles back. You never wished to have Gabe’s _special abilities_ , but they sure would be useful right now. All you wanted was to be smoke and to disappear.

“Be a patient girl for me, won’t you?” He squeezed your cheeks together before throwing your face to the side.

You felt nauseous, stomach pulsing with fear and heart beating so loud in your ears you were sure it was filling the whole room with the noise. He left, and you weren’t sure for how long, but when he returned he no longer had the mask on. Behind him was another tall body with shining red hair.

There was a look of pure shock on Moira’s face when she saw you, genuine shock that for once you were able to read clearly. Standing behind him, her fingers gripping into the sides of a form fitting lab coat, she stared at the back of his head as if she was burning a hole through it.

“It is my understanding you two are already acquainted.” He smiled at you, bending over so his face was too close to yours. “Dr. O'Deorain has done fantastic work in the field of reprogramming. I believe she even tested one of her early iterations of it on you, isn’t that correct?”

You stared in silence at her, eyes pleading not to do this, that things didn’t _have_ to be this way that she could help you. How much had she told him about you, about Gabe? Surely she must know Gabe is Reaper. Your heart sank at the thought of Tishler knowing Reaper had been Gabe the whole time. Her mismatched eyes bounced from you to him and from the corner of your eye you could see Tishler becoming angrier.

“I asked you a question!” He barked at your face and slammed a massive hand against the tray of empty vials sending them clattering to the floor.

“Yes.” You finally managed to choke out even though it felt like you were speaking through the a collapsed throat.

“Perhaps we should step out for a moment, Cornelius.” Moira's words were short and bitter, brows twisted around and a snarl was growing at her lips.

"Ah-ah." He was squaring his shoulders, turning to face her and stepping forward to invade her space. "You said you'd give me the rest of the vials if you saw the patient. No reason to turn back on your promise now, doctor." 

“Moira!” You cried out, voice breaking before a horrible hacking fit and her face snapped to yours. If you could speak you'd plead with her not to do this, not to help him. You'd call her your friend and remind her of all the late afternoons spent together in the coffee shop on base, of all the time working side by side in her lab when she first came to Blackwatch. 

She didn't seem afraid of him. Her long nailed fingers wrapped at the dark purple vial above you and snapped it from its place, holding it out of Tishler's reach behind her. 

"You are pushing her too far. Her reaction to this will be detrimental to the reprogramming process after what you have already put her through. Her body needs to rest or there will be nothing but mush left in her skull. Think about this for once, Cornelius." Her voice was stern and you felt your heart sink to the floor. No. No, she didn't care about you at all. She wasn't concerned for your well being, she was concerned you wouldn't be able to be reprogrammed. "If you continue to torture her she may have an adverse reaction we can't prepare for, I suggest you consider your next steps carefully." 

"You're too soft on her, don't tell me you think you've bonded with your little experiment?" Tishler gestured towards you, raising an eyebrow once he could see how lucid you were. "I'm surprised O'Deorain, you've never been one to protect your test subjects. Although you're right, she is more useful to us if she can remember her own name, I'm not done having fun yet." 

He brought out another white vial, another plunging serum down the tube and into your arm and you groaned as you felt it pulsing into your veins. Tishler grabbed roughly against Moira's shoulder, her gripped into it and led her out the door to his office. You tried desperately to fight the grogginess creeping over your skin and into your muscles. Your mind was foggy, but you could hear their heated conversation through the cracked door.

“You said you wouldn’t touch her. She’s my subject.” Moira’s voice was venomous.

“I suggest you stand down and remember your place, Dr. O'Deorain, lest you forget who took you in when no one else would.”

“Blackwatch didn’t trust me because of the work you ordered me to do. Do not act like like you belong on a pedestal. Back off of her. I can wipe her memories of this place and we can pretend like this never happened.”

“I don’t think so.” His voice was deep and dripping from his mouth like honey. 

"I will destroy every sample of the reprogramming drug before I let you inject her with it. You and that brat of yours can accomplish your goals another way."

"She's going to be part of Talon, regardless of if you want her to be or not O'Deorain." 

You heard a slap, or a punch you weren’t sure which, but Tishler’s voice dropped low and you couldn’t hear what was being said. No longer able to hold on, no longer able to focus, you mind drifted away from you. 

When you opened your eyes again, Arntz was hunched over in the chair across from you. You frantically looked around as you came to, trying to scream for help beneath the tape back over your mouth. She looked frail, she was leaned heavily on one arm and you immediately saw she had been sat in the chair with her legs still missing. Your mind immediately jumped to believe she must be experiencing the same torture you are. You felt drunk almost, as you looked at her. Your vision would blur and double and room would spin, but you could see that she looked terrible.

Tishler was a monster. An absolute fucking monster for doing this to her. Even as much as you hated that she would go to Talon, that she wanted to ruin what you had with Morrison, no one deserved to be treated like this.

You were trying to get her attention by yelling beneath the tape, but your throat was horse and you were making pathetic whines instead. Tishler snapped open the door and you looked to him with wide eyes, trying to convey just how much you hated him. He had two metal disks in his hands and was smiling behind a black medical mask.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” His eyes fell to you, but he moved towards Arntz. “Just in time to see the gift Vishkar so kindly gave my sweet girl.” He kneeled down in front of Arntz, big hand smoothing over her sweating face and pushing her hair back.

You watched in horror as he moved her hips into an awkward uncomfortable position and pushed up the ends of shorts that were already too short. You were about to be sick. You can't watch this. You tried to look away, but from the angle he moved her you could tell attached to the bottom of her hips on either side were metal rings as well. She let out a sigh and ran her fingers along the back of his head as he worked closely at her core attaching the rings he walked in with. In seconds a distant whirring met your ears and you watched as a leg formed seemingly out of thin air from hard blue light.

Tishler placed a hand on the thigh and to your surprise it didn’t phase through, his fingers squeezed it like it was made of flesh and slid further up, stopping just before it became all too inappropriate.

“Can you feel that?” He asked her, a hint of excitement in his voice. Arntz smiled and leaned forward with a kiss to his forehead she was gasping in happy breaths like she was about to cry.    

“I can, I can feel you.” She leaned into him, kissing with a smile on her face and nothing about it felt right.

You couldn’t bear to look and turned your eyes to your own legs. Tishler clicked in the other metal disk and her second hard light leg came to life. You could see her flexing the ankles, stretching toes and testing her knees, they moved just like real legs and you weren’t quite sure how to feel about it. Tishler shifted so he was on one knee between her new legs, obscenely large hands on either of her thighs sliding up as he watched her reaction. She leaned forward again, kissing him and her hands wandering around the back of his shaved head. 

No. This had to be a sick joke. A deep pit in your stomach grew just a little larger, you wanted her to be as disgusted as you were, you wanted to believe that she wasn't capable of kissing such a vile man. If she was forced here maybe then you could forgive her, maybe you could save her, but that's not how it looked. She loved a man who tortured, who  _murdered_ innocents.

You froze, pausing your mind as the dizzying world around you continued to make you feel sick. Was this how she felt about you with Morrison? Was  _this_  how she saw you? 

They were talking to each other, but you couldn't hear. The inside of your ears felt like they were swollen, muffling the noises around you, muffling the giggling as Tishler lifted Arntz and brought her to stand on her feet. He held a steadying arm for her as she walked, testing the hard light as she circled around your chair and you tried to close your eyes to ignore how awful this was making you feel. You could hear her footsteps, they didn't quite sound like feet, but they didn't weren't completely solid either. 

You gasped hard through your nose as Tishler grabbed at your chin again, forcing you to look up.

"Keep your eyes open." He growled at you before stepping back to watch Arntz wandering across the small room. "Why don't you try the next injection darling? I want to watch."  

Tishler backed up into the chair Arntz left empty. He sat back in it, too big to fit properly and spread his legs wide, leaning one elbow on the metal arm rest and watching Arntz with lustful eyes as she opened the hissing cabinet where the vials were kept. White again. You'd feel sick and pass out again. 

You tried to beg her, tried to tell her no as she clumsily worked with the tubing leading into the vein Tishler dug into your arm. She was slower at it, clearly inexperienced with administering what it was that filled the vial, but you could see the way she was smiling. You could see the way she was side eyeing Tishler. 

Sick. You were sick. But they were sicker. 

* * *

The honeycomb veins were back on your hands. Your heavy head hung down, neck squeezed by the restraint that felt eerily like hands at your throat from this angle, and your hands were the only thing you could stare at. Fingertips were starting to go numb, veins slowly becoming more prominent. It was a bizarre familiar feeling that you’d never wanted to experience again, you didn’t want to see and know everything that was happening to you and not have any control over it again. It felt the same as the last time Moira tested on you, but this time there were no visions, no hallucinations to occupy your mind, instead you were limp and shaking and completely lost.

You could hear voices speaking low and fast to each other. Too many sets of feet in armored boots were scraping across the floor, too many for you to focus on.

"How long is this part going to take?" Arntz. Her voice was directly in front of you, legs moving into view- the only give away it was her being the hard light visible in a gap between her shoes and the edge of her pants at the ankle. 

"The first phase can take anywhere from a few hours to a day, she's been responding sporadically to the initial tests so my guess is this make take longer." Fucking Tishler, every inch of the inside of your skull hurt just hearing his voice. "If you'd like to stay and watch her you're more than welcome to, my darling." 

Arntz made a disgusted noise. You watched her feet on the floor move towards him then push up to stand on her toes and you heard her place a kiss somewhere on him. 

"Akande said he needed some help with the guards on his cell block, I'm going to go take care of that." 

"Take them with you." His voice shifted the side of the room, towards his bodyguards near the door. "We can't take any chances now with Reaper here." 

Your heart was racing. Gabe. Gabe was here? Tishler sounded afraid of him. He was sending guards with Arntz. That must mean he doesn't know who he is, that must mean Moira has kept some secrets.

She left with the bodyguards, she left you with Tishler who watched you intently with fingers pressing down against the vein on your neck. As suddenly as your heart was racing, it almost felt like it stopped. 

A familiar wave rushed over you. A calm that you hadn't felt since you were sitting on Moira's couch. This was the first part. Blocking everything, blocking your ability to feel, to cry, to scream, to think. You lifted your head high to look him in the eyes, no longer concerned with the pain associated in your neck. You stared into a gleeful face that beamed back a horrific smile. 

"That's my girl. See how good it is when you don't fight?" His fingers returned to your hair, nails combing through again and you could feel how greased it was from a time long passed of sweating as you were strapped to this damn chair. 

You dropped your eyes.

No fight. No feeling. Just an empty heart that every so often stabbed with a spike of panic.

Tishler moved around you, attaching small circular stat checkers to each side of your forehead and just below your collarbones. You started to lose track of where he was moving, as he walked he became a blur of himself, your eyes holding onto his trails as he checked his watch, opened the cabinets, sat in the chair across from you, wandered into his office. He moved so much you couldn't focus and your vision just became a frozen picture of him sitting across from you and the ghosts of where he'd been in the room trailing slowly around. 

You think you heard the door open, but you didn't care enough to turn your head. 

Accusatory voices argued and you could tell Tishler had moved, but to where you don't know.   

Then, a loud grunt and Tishler's face crashed to the floor with a horrific crack as his shaved head landed heavy on shiny white floors at your feet. His awful mean face pressed against the ground as big eyes with blown out pupils stared up at you. You weren’t sure if you were actually seeing this, or if it was the drugs playing tricks on you and you turned your head towards the door, greeted by Moira who was looking calmly at the man with a needle attached to an empty vial in her fist.

“It’s alright, I need you to breathe normally. I’m going to administer a drug that will reverse the effects of what he’s put into you, but I need you to stay calm as it’s going to hurt.” She was quick, she opened the heavy cabinet that hissed and stared in as you twisted your eyes to study her. Her long nailed fingers scanned over vials of different serums until she grabbed one in yellow and hooked it into the tube at your arm, plunging the serum down into your bloodstream.

Slowly time was coming back to you, your heartbeat was coming back loud in your ears. 

It felt like blades were cutting your veins, opening them from the inside and you groaned as your body reflexed every muscle against the restraints. She shushed you, which surprisingly did make you relax just a little and take in shaky breaths and try to relax as she undid the locks at your ankles.

The first thing you did with your feet free was kick Tishler as hard as you could in the stomach and a soft groan left him, but his wide eyes still fixated on you and he didn't move to get up.  

“Is he dead?” You asked with a hushed horse voice and Moira side eyed him on the floor. His body was twitching the same way Gabe’s did when you incapacitated him.  

“Would you like him to be?” Genuine curiosity was in her voice, one brow raised higher than the other over a mismatched eye. Her fingers quickly moved to the restraints at your arms, she gave you a few moments to flex your wrists and roll your shoulders as she removed the stat checkers, before carefully moving to the final restraint at your neck. As she was next to your face she whispered in your ear. "Scalpels are in the top drawer on the left. I'll be just on the other side of the door." 

You were slow and deliberate in your movements as she leaned back from you, eyes carefully watching her for any sign of disapproval for what you were about to do, for what you wanted to do. There was none. She had the ghost of a smile on the corner of her lips before she was at her feet again.  

 _Moira was your friend._  

She gave you a small knowing nod before quietly shutting the door behind her. You turned to the white cabinets, hands reaching for the drawer and pulling out a covered scalpel. Your veins still felt like they were trying to rip themselves out of your skin but it was worth pushing through the pain. It was time to decide if this was the kind of person you were. You'd killed before, but this, this was so much more personal. With a gun it was quick, with a tiny knife you would be forced to feel the last moments of Tishler's life, you would be sending him off in agony. You flipped the scalpel over in your fingers a few times, sucking on your cheek before turning around to look at the man again.  

Your eyes snapped down to him and something looked _different_. All color was gone. Across his big arms you could see deep scars and freckles you'd never noticed before. You could see the lip print of where Arntz kissed his cheek. 

It felt like a forest fire lit in your stomach. You were doing this. 

You kicked his shoulder, forcing him on his back as he stared up at you looming above him. Through muscle twitches you could hear him gasping for air but you dropped to his chest, sitting on him with your knees pressing hard against his armpits as you hunched over and held the blade to his stretched neck. You wished you could remember exactly where to cut to sever his air, or even how deep you actually needed to go. Your only hesitation of making any incision came from the logistics of how to get the job done. 

His expression was no longer just wide eyed, it was _scared_. He was scared of you. Scared of what you were about to do and that satisfied something deep in your core. 

Your first cut was too shallow. Just his skin, no worse than a paper cut long across his neck that beaded in the areas your hand went unsteady. It felt good to hurt him. He'd done so many terrible things and he _deserved_ this. You admired the cut for a moment, taking in the bright red blood prickling out before your hand returned to cut in the same section again, but the door flew open with a sudden burst of air and you were sure it was Moira here to warn you of returning bodyguards. 

Instead when your face snapped up to look above you, there was a body reeling back as soon as you made eye contact with a bone white mask. Reaper stood with Moira behind.

"No-" Gabe gasped beneath it and his voice was unlike you'd ever heard it before. He leaned down next to you, hands gripping at your arm and ripping from your seat at Tishler's chest until you were stood at his side. _"No."_

His hands held your face, gloved palms on either cheek and you stared into his mask. Unlike before, you could see through the black covering on the eyes, you could see straight through to his own eyes that were glossy and gigantic as they searched your own.  

"She wasn't like that when I left her." Moira had a breathlessness to her voice as well. "I swear, Gabriel, her eyes were not like that before. I didn't know." 

His hold on your face ripped away and you dropped to the floor catching yourself with your forearms. He was angry. Before you could reach back to him, before you could finish what you were doing with Tishler, his shotgun filled the room with a horrifying pop. Then another shot. And another. And another, until it was empty. Your ears were ringing, head pounding from the noise as you held your eyes tightly shut and covered your ears. 

When you opened your eyes again, you could see Moira's red hair. You could see the sickly green tint on her skin as she forced herself to look out the door. If Gabe wanted to make sure Tishler was dead, that did the trick. Everything above his chest was obliterated. A mess of blood and bone, gore covered the floor and oozed towards you in a mess that looked more like a horror scene from a movie than what was left of a dead body at your feet. Tishler was left a disgusting horrific mess shot into the ground. 

Gabe was breathing hard. He was clipping his gun back at his side and shaking beneath the Talon armor. 

"Let's go." He growled.

It seemed wrong, almost, to leave Tishler there like that. You only hoped Arntz wouldn't find him. It was selfish, but you hoped she wouldn't think you wanted to kill him. You hoped she wouldn't hate you more than she already did. You looked at the disgusting remnants of the body before you left his office with a homicidal masked man and a blood splattered doctor in tow, you grabbed at Moira's sleeve. 

“How long have I been here?” 

“Six days.” Her eyes fell to the bruising on your skin where the restraints held you. "I'm sorry, I tried to get you out before then but he was suspicious of my intentions. Luckily we caught him before he could change your memories. You may have side effects for a while, light head, confusion, even fainting spells, but you will be okay." 

"Jack thinks you're being held at a Talon facility in Germany. It appears one of the lieutenants high in our ranks has been working for Talon and we missed them when we got at that data before. The rat's been feeding him false leads." Gabe was hurrying you down an empty hall, holding a hand to your back and pushing you as quickly as he could away from the grizzly scene left behind in Tishler's office. 

"How are we going to explain you rescuing me?" You asked under your breath, pressing a fist over your empty pulsing stomach. 

"We're not." He stopped, holding you and Moira in silence as guards passed down another section of the hall. "You're going to tell them the truth. Reaper killed him and you were able to escape. As soon as you're out of these doors I want you to run into the city, someone is going to see you and call for help."

Moira stopped before your next turn around a corridor, silently opening a heavy wood door and staring back at you and Reaper while you waited for distant voices to fade away.

"This is my stop." You could see her things inside, the pictures and books she kept in her room back on base just visible behind her in the room. Her face was solemn, knuckles trying to wipe away drops of blood across pale skin. "Will you be reporting that you saw me to Overwatch?"  

"You saved me." You responded without hesitation. She searched your face for a moment wondering if that meant what she thought it did. "Thank you, Moira. I never saw you here." Gabe grabbed at your arm again with the hurried indication that you needed to move, and she gave you a small thankful nod before slipping away behind the door. 

He knew exactly where he was going, he knew exactly how to get you out. He knew... too much. As you stood at the front door to the massive base, hand waiting on the intricate door you couldn't help the sinking feeling in your stomach.

"You have a lot to explain, Gabe." You breathed out as he reached for the handle. 

"I'll tell you everything. Just not here. Go home, Jack is worried to death about you." It was a quick goodbye. Before you knew it, you were thrust into bright sunlight. The smell of sea salt hit you, the warm heat radiated onto your skin and you'd forgotten how fine fresh air was in your lungs. 

You took off running.

* * *

 

Morrison was at your side the entire time you were in the medical wing. They ran every test, blood work, hair samples, urine samples, memory exercises- no chances would be taken this time. You passed them all with flying colors, maybe better than you should have done, as you’d catch Morrison looking over your paperwork with worried brows and flashing glances back at you. But he stayed. Not a moment apart, not a moment that he was willing to separate from you and get back to work. He followed you to physical therapy to ensure your strength was what it should be. He would ask you questions about your lives together to make sure nothing was missing. He was there and nothing was going to rip you away from him for the almost _two weeks_ you were being tested in the medical wing. 

He would sleep next to you in the tiny bed, arms wrapped tightly at your waist, body tucked against yours unwilling to let you out of his sight. With every test the medical staff ran he would look at you with a mix of relief and fear. He knew something was off. He knew there was something too familiar about the way your results came back. On the day of your release, when he thought you were too busy speaking to a medic in the hall, you watched him scrolling through everything on your medical chart with brows scrunched together. 

His arm was still bruised from the accident, but you couldn't see any other signs of a car slamming into him weeks ago. 

He was concerned. Then to make matters worse, Gabe had been gone for almost the entirety of your stay in the medical wing. Morrison told you he came back once, but it hurt your heart that he didn't come visit. You wondered if he felt guilty, or if he didn't want to explain himself. You felt even worse when he mentioned Gabe was coming back the afternoon you were getting released and he hadn't called, or messaged, or even checked in to see how you were doing.  

After being released, Morrison laced his fingers between yours and walked slowly with you across base.

"I need to stop at my office and get some paperwork, are you okay to head over there?" He spoke carefully to you. The bags under his eyes were unreal and in the short amount of time you were gone you think he went years grayer. 

"Of course." You squeezed his fingers between yours but you could see the heartache in his face. Hand in hand you made you way to his office where he rifled around in an untouched stack of paperwork. 

"Sweetheart?" He finally breathed out and leaned heavy against the edge of his desk. "You would tell me if you knew something happened to you, right?" 

You heart skipped a beat. He was drawing his own conclusions. He was trying to blame your super solider stats on the days spent on the Talon base getting injected.

No.

No more. 

No more lies. 

You couldn't take it anymore. You were going to fall apart into billions of pieces if you had to add one more lie on top of so many others. 

“You should sit down.” You whispered, begging almost.

This was it.

Everything. He needed to know everything, otherwise you think your insides would actually poison you. He could see the seriousness on your face and he held your hand across his desk as he slowly lowered himself into his chair.

“I need you to know how much I love you. I have been keeping secrets from you and it has been _killing_ me Jack, but I need you to know that I love you so much more than I can put into words.”

“You're scaring me, what happened?” His fingers between yours squeezed and he looked like he was also about to have a nervous breakdown. 

“Things changed when we got back from Indiana. Do you remember when I went missing?”

“I can't forget that.”

“I'm so sorry Jack.” You cried out before looking to the ceiling hoping to dry your eyes and taking a deep steadying breath. “I've been lying to you about those days. I remember it, I remember everything from when I was gone.”

His hand held tighter while the other moved to cover his mouth. He was staring at your neck and _god_ he looked so exhausted. He closed his eyes and the lump at his throat bobbed. You could see he was trying to keep himself calm, it was the same calm he used to try to bubble inside when you would pick fights with him long before you were ever together.

“You need to tell me all of it.” He finally said, voice steady and low and you nodded slow and purposefully.

“The night after we got back, I was bombarded with messages on my phone from a blocked number. It was Arntz. She saw the pictures that were taken of us and…” Morrison let go of your hand, moving it to meet the other to cover his mouth in disbelief. “She was saying all these awful things to me. Things at the time I believed were true, that I didn’t deserve the happiness I had, that I was living a lie, that I deserved to die in that explosion. That night… that was the night I had the worst panic attack of my life. In that moment I thought I was actually dying, and I couldn’t think straight. I should have come to see you, but I was so scared because you’d just told me you loved me and I was overwhelmed and-” You stopped the nails digging into your thighs and clasped your hands together tightly in your lap. “Fuck, Jack. I fucked up so bad. I should have never gone with her.”

“ _Her?_ Who were you with?” His face was twisted and you’d never seen such a look of pain and concern.

“Moira. For most of the days I was gone, I was in her room.”

His hands dropped to the desk, mouth open to say something but only huffs of air pushed past his lips. Frantic watering eyes searched the air next to you as if he was trying to recall every moment he interacted with her, every time he passed her door in the hall to see Gabe, every unknown missed opportunity to keep you safe.

“What the hell were you doing there?” He stood and you thought it was going to be to pound a fist on the table but instead he leaned far over to hold your face, gentle hands firm in place forcing you to look him in the eyes as you spilled your truth.

“I didn’t want to feel anything.” Was all your voice could muster out as you shook your head still on the verge of tears. “She offered to take the pain away and I accepted without thinking of the consequences. She was testing a numbing serum on me Jack, because I _asked_ her to. But what she put in me changed the chemistry in my body or something, it messed with my internal temperature and made me overheated all the time and I felt like I was on fire and I was miserable for _months_ but she told me she’d fix me, and fuck, she did, but Jack it _changed_ me. Her fix- the way she got rid of my fevers- fuck- you’re going to be so mad-” You were gasping now feeling a sense of dread sinking in to your chest. Morrison quickly circled the desk to be at your side, kneeling and grabbing your hands with only a look of frightened concern plastered on his face.

“You can tell me, please, take a breath, you need to tell me.” His voice was breaking. You looked at his face, trying to memorize every worry line and every bit of scruff poking from his jaw line. It was easier to be tortured than it was to tell him this, at least then you were the only one getting hurt.

“She put super soldier genes in me, Jack. I’ve been faster and stronger and it’s because she mixed Gabe’s genes with mine. It was the only way she could stop my fevers.” A tear fell from your cheek and you stared at the hands in your lap, you expected screaming but instead he stood and held your head to his chest, cradling you.

“I knew she was bad news.” He sounded upset, but not at you. 

Oh, no. He didn’t understand. How could he? He didn’t know of Gabe’s unique _problem_ with his genetics, he didn’t know the full dangers of what could be your fate. You opened your mouth to explain, to start to tell him but he ran a hand over your hair smoothing it to your head and spoke in a soft voice.

“She was the one who hurt you, wasn’t she? Moira strangled you?”

Fuck.

Here we go.

“No.” You whispered against him and he drew back in surprise.

“No?” His voice sounded almost accusatory. He wanted it to be Moira, he _needed_ it to be Moira so he could pin everything that had gone wrong since then on her.

“Jack-” Your voice squeaked and you held onto his arm, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. “No- don't be mad, please I have so much to tell you. Jack. It-”

Could you even bring yourself to say it?

You could feel him shaking.

“It was Gabe.”

Morrison dropped his hands from you. Knees going weak, he fell back against his desk and tried to steady himself. It felt like your hearing imploded on itself. All you could focus on was the was his leg bounced with anxiety against the floor, the pace of his breathing picking up the more he thought at about it. His eyes were laser focused on the door.

“Gabriel put his fucking hands on you?”

“He didn’t know what he was he was doing-” You were speaking through tears and mucus in your throat and you weren’t prepared to stop Morrison from rushing out the door in that moment. You gasped and shot from your seat to run after him. “Wait-!” There was so much more, so much you needed to tell him, so much you needed to tell him if he was going to know your truth. 

You chased him out of the offices all the way to the barracks, pleading for him to stop, begging for him to just listen to you because you had more to tell him.

“You don’t understand, we were both out of our minds- Jack, listen to me!” You were pulling at his bright blue commander’s jacket trying to get him to pause but he was practically running to the barracks to find Gabe.

Find him, he did.

Gabe was just leaving the elevator doors and he was met with the frantic scene of Morrison with fists balled at his side b-lining for him and you running behind cry-screaming for him to wait, but Morrison barked at Gabe to get back in the elevator. Cornered, Gabe did all he could do in that moment and backed in all the way to the mirrored walls shooting you a look asking for any explanation. He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. Face an unshaven mess and eyes dull from long days, you opened your mouth to warn him but Morrison shoved his shoulders hard sending him backwards.        

The doors behind you closed, elevator slowly moving up to another floor but Jack turned around with fury in his eyes and pulled the emergency knob bringing the elevator to an abrupt stop that made you lose your footing for a moment. Once the button was pulled the usual florescent white lights flickered to emergency red and everything in the small space was bathed in the red light.  

You’d never seen someone so angry in their life. Morrison didn’t care enough to even give Gabe a chance to speak. He was hitting Gabe with bare fists, ripping into his skin with the sheer force of every punch to his face and Gabe tried to hold the man away from him. You were screaming but he wouldn't stop.

"What the fuck, Jack?!" Gabe spit blood from his mouth to the ground, bearing his teeth you could see his mouth was filling with it.

"I should kill you!" Morrison shouted, landing another blow against Gabe's jaw. " _How dare you._ How dare you hurt her like that. How dare you almost kill her and think I'd never find out." 

You couldn't do anything. You were leaning back as far away as possible against the cold reflective wall hoping that someone else was hearing this and someone else could stop them. 

"What did you tell him?" Gabe looked you directly in the eyes as Morrison grabbed his collar and lifted the man. He wanted to know how much you told him. He was playing the game of: How much does Jack Morrison know about the love of his life? 

"You animal!" Morrison slammed Gabe against the wall and the impact of it shattered the glass sending it falling to the floor. You yelped, already on the verge but now everything was coming back and everything was setting you off. You curled against yourself, falling against the wall until you were against your knees on the floor just staring at them with wide eyes. "You, of all people, you're the one who strangled her?!" Morrison's voice broke and you could hear the tears behind it. "I trusted you with her, Gabe! I trusted her life with you!"  

Another punch for good measure and you watched him change. Gabe was strong enough to fight back, but now he wouldn’t. He gritted his teeth and took every hit, eyelids started swelling, but still, his gaze flickered to you.

“Enough!” You screamed as blood was pouring over his face. “Enough, Jack!" You cried smaller, no longer screaming, instead unable to stop the visceral cries ripping from your throat. "Please, let me explain." Your voice was so small, but that seemed to force his silence. 

Movement shifted and Jack was at the buttons again, this time releasing the emergency and pressing ground level.

"Gabriel can explain himself while he's in custody." Morrison said coldly. "There is nothing that can excuse doing that to you." 

"Jack-" You choked out. 

"He's right." Gabe was speaking through pained gurgles before spitting more blood to the mirror covered floor. "I knew this would come eventually." 

So this was it. This was how Gabriel Reyes gave up his time at Overwatch. He accomplished what he wanted to, you guessed. He took down Talon leaders, made sure of it personally. Blackwatch was already in shambles, everyone he loved was either dead or almost there from stress. 

"It's okay." He whispered as the elevator doors opened and Morrison held him tightly by the arm leading him out of the barracks. "Don't cry for me." He was smiling. He looked... relieved.

You stood dumbfounded at the end of the hall while a small gathering of agents just trying to make their way back to their rooms found the scene of two commanders bloodied and an elevator ruined. That was the last moment you saw Gabriel Reyes. That was the last time you would see an actual smile on his face and it was while he was being led away in the grip of the man you loved who wanted nothing more than to keep you safe, from a man who was so shaken with guilt that he couldn't even keep you safe from his best friend. 

Strike team agents surrounded you with questions, concerns if you were okay, if they were okay, but you pushed them away hoping to follow Morrison to the on base holding cells. Gabe was no stranger to them, but this time it was different. This time investigators put him in handcuffs. This time the two way windows had the blinds drawn and you were shut out as Gabe was questioned. 

Your heart hurt. You stayed out in the hallway as people rushed through with frantic questions. Hours you waited listening to muffled yelling. You stayed out there until Morrison slammed the door behind him and helped you from the floor. 

"We're going to be here all night. He's writing out a confession and I'm going to be there for every word." He was paler than usual. "I can't believe he did this to you. I- I think I'm in shock about it all still. Go to the room, get some rest. You need it." 

You looked deep into his eyes trying to figure out exactly what Gabe had confessed to. Morrison brought you into a tight hug, one that was long and his fingers gripped into your back with a desperate need to protect you. His lips found yours, kissing you in the softest and saddest kiss he'd ever placed on your lips. He didn't want you here. You couldn't tell if he was mad at you, disappointed, or terrible a mix of everything. 

So you left.

You tried to go back to the base but you couldn't find it in your heart to try to sleep. Instead you wandered the base. Crisscrossing around the grounds in disbelief, still reeling from how quickly your life came tumbling down around you. You walked until the sun was peaking with pinks and purples over distant mountaintops. Your legs brought you all the way on the edge of base where you found Reinhardt, he was at the end of a dew covered grassy field with his head down.  

“Lieutenant?” Your voice cracked as you spoke for the first time in hours. His face turned to you slowly, eyes heavy with long sleepless nights and deep aching heartbreak ripping at his soul. He was dressed to be out running, but his legs would not move him forward and his body stood still as he swayed in the morning breeze. You placed a gentle hand on his elbow as he cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry captain, I did not hear you come up behind me.”

“Come on, let’s walk.” You rubbed the back of his arm as he slowly stepped forward with you, walking with smaller steps than he usually took. He had been staring at a small shrine some of the strike team members put together for Ana, a stone where one person had written her name, her hat sat atop it, and the ground below was surrounded with varieties of old dead bouquets.  

“She was very fond of you.” Reinhardt started as you squeezed his arm. “Ana said you were one of the few she would trust with her back turned, a great honor from an incredible women.”

“She was incredible. I'm so sorry Reinhardt, your world must feel so different without her in it now.”

“I have never been a stranger to death, but it is harder knowing we never found her." He stopped and you with him. "I heard there was trouble in the barracks between Jack and Gabe, is everything alright with you?" 

You stared at him for a moment, wondering if you should get into this with him. He already had so much on his plate, he was already heartbroken enough.

"Nothing they won't recover from." You put on your best fake smile and hooked your arm in his again.  

The air stilled for a moment. A dull buzzing bringing your attention to main HQ building far in the distance, past the gym and the practice range, past the hangers and the barracks and labs. Wilhelm furrowed his eyebrows turning an ear to the noise.

“What is that?” Was all you managed to say as your body turned to face it.

You heard him curse in his native tongue, watched the color drain from his face, as a deafening noise burst across the sky. He reacted before you could, jumping over your body and forcing you to the ground. He held his arm behind him, an instinctual reaction from a shield which wasn’t attached to him at the moment.

The earth shook below you. The noises that surrounded you were beyond anything a minefield could create, beyond anything you had ever heard before. But Reinhardt was there, hunched over you, protecting you from the sky falling and crashing your entire reality down around you and all you could do was hope this was just a waking nightmare.


	36. Official Transcript

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Investigators have some questions for you, let's take a peak at the interview.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for the long (for me!) delay in an update! Some of you may know, we really suddenly moved from our old place so that took up a lot of my time along with school, hopefully now that we're in our own place and things are settling down I'll be able to get back to updating regularly! :)  
> Sorry this chapter is much shorter than usual, think of it as a transition to life after the fall of Overwatch. 
> 
> Thanks again for sticking around, love you guys! <3

****OFFICIAL CONFIDENTIAL****

_Notes for UN officials:_ All video and audio records of this interview, as well as all additional Blackwatch agent interviews have been deleted or destroyed. At this time the only interview material available is audio transcripts by paper, by request only.  

Official transcript of Overwatch interview with a captain rank agent of strike team 6-A 

**I1:** Investigator 1

 **I2:** Investigator 2

 

Inventory on person at time of questioning: 

Gabriel Reyes Dog Tags [NOTE two keys attached]

Cellular Phone [NOTE at time of interview was powered off]

2 hand blades of unknown origin  

_____________________

  
**I1:** Thank you for meeting us today, we know the last couple days must have been incredibly difficult-  

 **[REDACTED]:** I’m not interested in small talk.

 **I2:** We’ll try to keep this as quick as possible, we understand this is a terrible situation and appreciate your time. We only have a few questions for you then you’re free to go, but we expect you to answer them truthfully, do you understand?  

 **[REDACTED]:** Yes, ma’am.

 **I1:** To start, we understand you must be worried about Commander Morrison still being listed as MIA. We promise we will give you updates regarding his status.

 **[REDACTED]:** Thank you.

 **I1:** I know this may be hard to discuss, but unfortunately we do need to know more about the nature of your interactions with him. What type of relationship did you have with Strike Commander Jack Morrison?

 **[REACTED]:** Sexual.

 **I2:** There’s no need for attitude. We need you to disclose the full nature of the relationship.  

 **[REDACTED]:** Jack Morrison and I began sleeping together just under 3 years ago. We visited his home in Indiana where there were explicit photos taken of us without our knowledge that eventually were released to the media which lead to Overwatch officials and the public being aware of our relationship. We plan to move in together after his retirement. [00:09 pause] Was that enough detail for you?

 **I1:** You two began sleeping together even after a year of increasingly worse disciplinary meetings, write ups, and complaints?

 **[REDACTED]:** Correct.

 **I2:** There are disturbing agent complaints about you two. “Commander Morrison and [REDACTED] routinely get in shouting matches loud enough for the entire office floor to hear”, “Commander Reyes has had to pull [REDACTED] out of rooms for attempting to slap or otherwise physically assault Commander Morrison”. I mean really, it’s ridiculous the time and resources that went into the complaints about your behavior and you’re expecting me to believe the nature of your relationship changed overnight?

 **[REDACTED]:** It wasn’t overnight.

 **I2:** Director Petras gave Commander Morrison very clear instructions that he did not want either the public or internal agents to know about an ongoing relationship between a commander and a captain, even going to far as to forbid you from having your own team if you two stayed together, having Commander Morrison touring different bases for over half a year-

 **I1:** And yet this only seemed to encourage you more. Commander Morrison had a near perfect track record of following orders, following up on disciplinary actions, and yet as soon as you became prominent in his life he was openly defying orders, he forced his way back into field combat, he also allowed you to work closely with Blackwatch, correct?

 **[REDACTED]:** Correct. I never held an official title within Blackwatch, but I was close with that team.  

 **I2:** We also need to know about the nature of your relationship to Blackwatch Commander Gabriel Reyes.

 **[REDACTED]:** He …

 **I1:** Messages and eye witness statements of your relationship describe it as intimate. Reports before the explosion state you were at his side almost constantly these last few months. Many reports indicate you would often sleep in his room or eat with him in the common areas. Was your relationship with him sexual as well?  

 **[REDACTED]:** No. Never.

 **I2:** [paper rustling] Upon his exit interview agent Jesse McCree described your relationship as “disturbingly close”. Can you explain this?

 **[REACTED]:** Reyes was unofficially my second commander, I would have been with Blackwatch permanently if I wasn’t contractually tied to Overwatch instead. Blackwatch was well known for working outside of the law, so we operated in any way we could and had a close bond because of it. We protected each other. I referred to them as my family.  

 **I1:** Family it appears you got into trouble with. You are aware the night before the explosion Commander Reyes confessed to numerous crimes, including being the individual who asphyxiated you. Family is an interesting term for someone who would be willing to do that to another agent  

[00:48 pause]

 **I2:** We already know you two were infiltrating Talon while on unsanctioned missions. He confessed to hiring on Dr. O’Deorain with the intent of experimenting with mind controlling drugs, he confessed to torturing and killing Talon agents for information, and threats of blackmail in order to force you to comply with his plans. Is this all correct?

 **[REDACTED]:** Gabe …    

[00:23 pause]

 **I2:** We will only be able to release you if you are honest with us, [REDACTED].     

 **[REDACTED]:** Yes. Yes … that is correct.

 **I1:** Do you have any reason to suspect Gabriel Reyes took part in a conspiracy to bring down Overwatch?

 **[REDACTED]:** Absolutely not. We were actively working against Talon, there’s no way in hell he was a double agent. I would have known.

 **I1:** Commander Reyes admitted to routinely using fake cover stories, falsifying mission reports, illegal data breaches, the list goes on and on, is it really that big of a stretch to think he was capable of colluding with Talon?

 **[REDACTED]:** You’re not pinning this on him. He wasn’t working with them.

 **I2:** We’re just trying to figure out what happened. No one’s saying he did it. [paper rustling] He made it very clear he was threatening you with mental and physical violence in order to maintain your silence and compliance, is there any reason he would be protecting any implications on you?

 **[REDACTED]:** That was pretty accusatory, are you trying to imply that I had something to do with the explosion?   

 **I2:** We find it suspicious that you clearly think of him fondly, yet in his own admission he calls himself quote ‘a monster’.

 **I1:** We also find it suspicious you were not in the barracks with most other agents at the time of the explosion. Perhaps you had some inside knowledge which buildings had been rigged with explosives?

 **[REDACTED]:** If I knew the base was about to blow, I would have been with Jack- I would have been with Commander Morrison.

 **I1:** When did you last see Commander Morrison?

 **[REDACTED]:** It must have been close to two in the morning, outside the holding cell where they were questioning Reyes. He was staying to hear the full confession and told me to go get some sleep.

 **I1:** Interesting, he sent you away. Does that mean the morning of the explosion you were in the barracks?

 **[REDACTED]:** No, I was too anxious to sleep so I was walking around base alone to clear my head after the fight that happened between Commander Morrison and Commander Reyes the night before.

 **I2:** You have no alibi for about three hours?

 **[REDACTED]:** I guess that’s correct.

 **I2:** Hmm.

 **I1:** We understand you ran into Lieutenant Wilhelm. What was he doing so far from the barracks that early in the morning?

 **[REDACTED]:** He was grieving at a makeshift grave for a fallen agent. Captain Ana Amari.

 **I1:** They were close?

 **[REDACTED]:** Sure, most of us were.  

 **I2:** Closer than most agents?

 **[REDACTED]:** I don’t know. I never paid much attention to them.

 **I1:** Our intelligence report you spent a week at the Wilhelm residence while Ana Amari was there. Even with that you do not know the nature of their relationship?

 **[REDACTED]:** I am not going to say anything to implicate Wilhelm or give you any reason to doubt Captain Amari’s skills. They’re both excellent agents separately and they worked very well together in the field. I think that’s really all that matters.  

 **I1:** We’re not trying to get either of them in trouble, just trying to understand how everyone is connected. [paper rustling] You worked closely with Captain Amari too, I’m sorry for your loss.

 **[REDACTED]:** I really don’t want your sympathy.

 **I2:** Let’s focus back to the day of the explosion. After you found Lieutenant Wilhelm, can you tell us what happened next?

 **[REDACTED]:** We heard loud buzzing. Reinh- Lieutenant Wilhelm recognized the noise and tackled me to the ground to protect me from the blast. I couldn’t see what was happening because his body was on top of mine. It felt like an earthquake, but I heard the explosions and knew something was wrong. I heard 8, maybe 9 explosions, all in different areas of base.

 **I2:** If you had to guess, how long do you think the explosions were going off?

 **[REDACTED]:** Five minutes? Ten, tops. I knew it was bad when Reinhardt’s blood started dripping onto me. He protected me the whole time. With no shield. Afterwards he refused to slow down to let anyone look at his injuries because he just wanted to get people out. He’s a hero.

 **I2:** Sure. Can you tell us about after the explosions?

 **[REDACTED]:** We couldn’t see much, maybe a couple feet in front of us at most? There was a lot of smoke, I remember thinking how weird it was because the smoke was orange. At the time I didn’t realize it was because the rubble was on fire. We ran to the nearest building to try getting people out, but there was nothing we could do. [00:13 pause] There was nothing we could do.

 **I1:** I know this is difficult, we need more detail than that, please.

 **[REDACTED]:** We … everything just looked like chaos. There was fire everywhere, big chunks of the buildings all over the ground. It was really hard to walk around. I think it started raining? Everything was wet, too. Anyone alive and lucid enough were screaming, there was a handful of other agents who managed to avoid the blast and we were all trying to dig through the mess but I never realized how heavy it would be. Reinhardt couldn’t even lift it and … we could hear people dying and we couldn’t reach them. The ones that we could reach were already gone. Their bodies were almost unrecognizable.   

 **I1:** How long would you say you were trying to dig through the remains?

 **[REDACTED]:** That’s hard to say. In the moment I was having a hard time focusing because I was experiencing symptoms of a PTSD attack while I was trying to help, it felt like it would never end. Realistically, my best guess is half an hour to an hour? More people kept trying to come help but we couldn’t do much with just our hands.

 **I1:** That sounds incredibly traumatizing, thank you for acting so quickly and trying to help.

 **[REDACTED]:** You should be thanking Reinhardt.  

 **I1:** Lieutenant Wilhelm stated after trying to get survivors out of the rubble you ran off without him, could you explain to us where you disappeared to?

 **[REDACTED]:** I realized Commander Reyes and Commander Morrison were probably still in the holding cells when everything happened, so I tried to find the disciplinary building where they were.  

 **I1:** Were you able to find them?

 **[REDACTED]:** I tried. Everything was on fire and destroyed, the rain was making the ground muddy. It was easy to get confused when everything was completely decimated. I wasn’t able to find either of them.

 **I2:** You weren’t able to find anyone, yet somehow you ended up with Commander Reyes’s dog tags that were on his person at the time of his confession? [metal rattling]

 **[REDACTED]:** I found them in the rubble.

 **I1:** But you did not find Commander Reyes?

 **[REDACTED]:** Correct. There was nothing of Gabriel Reyes left other than the dog tags. I tried to move some of the debris but I couldn’t lift most of it. Is he still listed as MIA too?

 **I2:** He is. Listen, I’m going to be honest with you, [REDACTED]. If we find out you’re covering for Commander Reyes for any reason, even if he’s been threatening you, you’ll be going to prison for life. The UN needs to blame someone for this and your explanation of things have been shaky at best, it would be very easy to pin this on you.  

 **[REDACTED]:** I’m not protecting him. I’m telling the truth, I didn’t see Reyes. The last time I saw him was the same time I saw Commander Morrison, at the holding cells. Please, it’s been a couple days, haven't they lifted the rumble there yet? They’re super soldiers, I’m sure they’re still alive down there but we just need to find them! Please let me go so I can help search. I need to find Jack- 

 **I2:** I’m sorry, but because of your role in the organization we can’t allow you back on the base as there’s to high a chance you could potentially tamper with evidence.

 **[REDACTED]:** Please, I need to find him! 

 **I1:** I'm sorry- 

 **[REDACTED]:** Please! I know he's still down there! I need to find him, I need to know he's okay-  

 **I1:** We should take a break, let’s go check on the status.

[1:39 pause] [papers rustling, inaudible conversation]

 **[REDACTED]:** What?

 **I1:** Stay here please.

**[Break in recording]**

 

 **I1:** Thank you for your patience-

 **[REDACTED]:**  Patience?! I’ve been waiting in this stupid fucking room for three fucking days! What is this shit? I haven’t taken a shower in eight fucking days. The only thing I’ve been eating is cold soup. Am I being held as some sort of prisoner or-

 **I1:** Please calm down-

 **[REDACTED]:** I’m covered in Reinhardt’s fucking blood! Are you kidding me?! Calm down?! What the fuck am I doing here, why is no one telling me anything?!

 **I1:** Please sit back down, there’s something very important we need to discuss with you.

[00:42 pause, heavy breathing]

 **I2:** There’s no easy way to explain this-

 **I1:** We have news about your commanding officer. [papers rustling] Um …

 **I2:** After a lengthy search by Overwatch and United Nations officials, Strike Commander Jack Morrison was pronounced missing in action-

 **[REDACTED]:** You came back in here to tell me something I already fucking know?!

 **I1:** As of this morning Jack Morrison has been pronounced dead.

[03:06 pause]

 **I2:** [REDACTED]?

 **I1:** He died among hundreds of other agents ... so it's taken the coroner's awhile to-

 **[REDACTED]:** You're lying to me.

 **I1:** We have no reason to lie about something like this, [REDACTED]. It’s heartbreaking news to us all, to the world really. It's already been announced to the world, here-

[shifting, sound of a cell phone unlocking, typing]

 **[REDACTED]:** He’s a super soldier. He’s been shot before, he’s … he’s made it through everything else! You’re fucking lying, I know you’re lying! You’re ...  

 **I1:** I’m sorry you have to find out this way.

 **[REDACTED]:**  [inaudible] ... He can't be gone. 

 **I2:** We've tried to have patience with you [REDACTED], but It’s time to start telling the truth. Don’t let his death be in vain. We believe you're purposefully omitting something, either to save yourself, Commander Reyes, or Commander Morrison's reputation. You need to tell us everything.   

[01:12 pause]

 **[REDACTED]:** I’ve told you everything. If I could have saved him, I would have. Don’t accuse me of taking part in something that has ... killed the man I love. Please ... please I've told you everything. I don't want to be here anymore. 

 **I1:** We understand, but you must realize how bad this looks- 

 **[REDACTED]:** Please. 

[knocking] 

 **I1:** One moment. 

**[Break in recording]**

 

 **I1:** Well, [REDACTED]. I have good news and bad news for you. Which would you like first? 

[00:14 pause] 

 **I2:** Bad news first then. Please, have a seat. 

 **[REDACTED]:** I'm done sitting. I want to leave. 

 **I1:** You should sit. [00:09 pause, movement] Thank you. I understand these days have been incredibly difficult, please know you have resources outside of Overwatch for getting help if you ever need it. When you're released you'll be given a grief counselling packet as well as some phone numbers for top combat psychiatrists, Overwatch wants to ensure that they are taking care of the survivors-

 **[REDACTED]:** I haven't slept in days. I'm annoyed and fucking exhausted, please just get on with it already.

 **I2:** Commander Reyes has been identified as well, he’s dead.

[00:58 pause, heavy breathing]

 **I1:** Are you ready for the good news? [00:19 pause] Well, it appears Akande Ogundimu, who is already being held a a highly secured facility, has taken full responsibility for the attack. He went as far as creating an entire manifesto from his cell detailing the plan on exactly how to execute it with specific agents in Overwatch named to carry out his instructions. You're in the clear. We have administrative working on your clearing paperwork now, you should be out of here within the hour.   

 **[REDACTED]:**  Doomfist ordered this? 

 **I2:** We prefer to call him by his legal name, but yes ... from here you’ll be released to the legal team, they have a temporary setup just up the street from here. [writing] It’s our understanding now that Commander Morrison is passed you are no longer contracted with Overwatch and have the choice to continue with the organization or discharge. This team will help transition you into civilian life if you choose to, please be sure to leave a phone number and address we will be able to reach you at with them. You’ll be brought back in for any additional questions if needed.

 **[REDACTED]:** That's it? 

 **I1:** That's it. We'll keep in touch. Again, I'm very sorry for your losses. I know you must have been very close with them. [metal rattling] Here are your personal items back, we'll need you to sign here and here indicating that you received them. 

[00:39 pause] 

 **[REDACTED]:** Where are Gabe's dog tags? 

 **I2:** They're being held as part of the investigation into his own confessions, once all evidence is cleared you will get them back in the mail. Don't hold your breath though, sometimes it can take decades to clear that kind of stuff. 

 **I1:** Thank you for your time and for your service, [REDACTED]. Best of luck to you-

 **[REDACTED]:** Can I leave now?   

**[End of recording]**


	37. 5 Stages Of Drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're not grieving. You're drowning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In advance, I'm sorry.

**Surprise**

“There’s some legal documentation here, as well as couple things to help you out in your transition back to civilian life. Here’s copies of your identification that should suffice until you get your proper cards once you’re back home-” She handed you plastic squares with official Overwatch stamps on them, your old expired ID from when you first joined and a thick piece of paper that described you as an ‘emergency early release’ from the organization. “Bank information-” Two temporary cards, neither with your name on them but you assumed were connected to your account based on the files she handed to you with it.

As you looked through the papers you noticed many of them repeated Jack’s name across them and you furrowed your brows as you flipped through.

“What is this?” You turned it and pointed to his name.

“He left his accounts in your name.” She stated plainly. “Well, some of them. It appears the people in his life he wanted to share with may have met the same fate as him. The only other person receiving anything from his will is the next of kin of an Ana Amari. You weren't aware he had you has his beneficiary on all his accounts?”

Your heart stung and you had to hold back a burning breath. How could you have known? He never told you. You wondered what this conversation would be like for Fareeha, or if she knew Jack left anything for her. Jesse always talked fondly of Fareeha like a little sister, Reinhardt thought of her as his own daughter, and Ana very clearly loved her. The lawyer was staring at you, waiting for a response but she sighed when all you could do was stare at his name on the documents. 

“You’ll want to make sure you take this to whatever institution you’ll be banking at as soon as possible to get everything transferred under your name. Between you and me, if there’s a deeper investigation into this, my guess is his accounts will be frozen if you don’t get this done right away.”

You nodded, half listening. Who gives a shit about his money? Not you. You’d rather have him here with you. No amount of money was worth losing him.  

“There’s also the matter of a piece of property in Bloomington, Indiana.”

Buzzing in your ears caught you off guard, low rumbling as the lawyer droned on about the transfer of the deed from his name to yours. You stared at the papers, riddled with agreements and his signature and you hyper focused on the date at the bottom wondering _when the hell_ it was that he did all this.

Your fingertips lingered over his pen marks, you could feel the indentations from where he pushed just a little too hard as he signed. Months were counting back in your mind as you ran through every moment he would have had to sign these. The date listed next to his signature would have been just after your mission with him in Gibraltar, you think. Your mind focused on the morning you spent looking at wallpaper for the farm house, on the way he kissed you and held you in his strong arms making you giggle and he spoke with such excitement about future plans. You knew he was serious about settling down, but to have gone through the lengths of putting things in your name- he really wanted to see this through with you and that opportunity was ripped away before you ever even got the chance to go back to Indiana together. You wished you could remember your days in Gibraltar with him better, everything seemed foggy now.   

“Unfortunately all of our clothing donations have been taken already so we won’t be able to send you off with any clean clothes…” The lawyer tapped her hand on the desk and you realized you had been staring at Jack’s signature for close to twenty minutes, not listening to a thing as she spoke. “Commander Morrison’s service will be held Monday night-”

“I want a private funeral. Not one for people who didn’t even know him to mourn at.”

“That’s… not really up to me. Overwatch thinks it would be good press if you attended, the directors were hoping you would say a few words in his memory.”

You let out a cold laugh under frowning lips. Of course they did. Now that he was dead they were willing to let you openly speak about the relationship. You wanted to scream, they only care when it benefits them, they never gave a shit about you. 

“And Commander Reyes, when is his service?” You stared at the tired lawyer, into her eyes that begged you not to take your emotions out on her. She rolled her lips between her teeth, a nervous glance to her computer screen with a news ticker scrolling by. Sad looked like she didn't want to tell you. Your heart sank. “They’re not giving him one, are they?”

“No.” She answered quietly. “I’m sorry, they gave me very specific orders that I am not allowed to talk about him.” She chewed on her lip and scanned the window, fingers nervously tapping on her desk. “I’m not supposed to say anything, but they’re disowning his name because of the crimes he confessed to.”

You wished you’d hid his dog tags on you better. Then at least you’d have something of him to bury.  

“Please don’t say a word of that to anyone, I could lose my job.”

“Don’t worry. I can keep a secret.” You felt numb. The lawyer gave you a fleeting weak smile.

“Well, unless you have any other questions, you’re completely free to go.”

She gathered all your documents and cards into a tightly bound black portfolio. She took her time circling the strings around it before holding it out and you blinked a few times unsure what life was like outside of the bounds of Overwatch.

“Be careful with this, these documents have your whole life in them.” She stood, holding out her hand to shake. “Overwatch thanks you for your service. A complimentary taxi is waiting out front to take you wherever you intend to go.”

You stared at her hand until she drew it back clearing her throat and held out the portfolio instead. It was sleek and black and looked like the boxes Tishler used to send and it made your stomach churn. You crossed your arms, holding the damn thing against your chest as if your world would shatter to pieces in front of you if you dropped it. This felt surreal. Like you were walking through a terribly vivid dream and nothing would ever wake you up. 

You stank. Like blood and BO and electrical fire. Your skin was shiny and greased with over a weeks worth of grime, the sink in the holding block the investigators had you in couldn’t compare to a shower. You were treated worse than a prisoner when you were being held there, they treated you like you were a _traitor_.

“Take care of yourself.” The lawyer had soft tried eyes, she’s probably seen too many people just like you come through these last few days.

You walked out of the building and past the line of other Overwatch agents who were in the same state as you. All filthy from the explosion, exhausted from sleeping in emergency holding facilities under shock blankets, mentally battered from days of questioning by investigators who pulled terrible details from everyone's shared experience. Most agents didn't even lift their heads to watch you go by, you left unceremoniously into the bright morning light of day. A line of taxis waited along the stretch of road, you climbed into the first one and were immediately asked where you were going by an unenthused voice.

Fuck funerals. Fuck Overwatch. You stared down at the folder in your arms. You sure as hell weren't going to stay here. 

Jack gave you a home.

It was time to go home.  

The car took you to the airport, you stared out the window in silent amazement that the world around you was still continuing on as if nothing had happened. The sky was still blue popping against white clouds rolling behind old buildings, people were out and about on jogs, on their phones, humans and omnics alike holding conversations you saw in brief moments and you were reminded how normal life was outside Overwatch. Your life could have been that, but you just had to go chasing a dream of serving under a blond commander from recruitment posters. 

The airport was quiet this early in the morning. Granted, not many people were trying to fly in or out of this area anytime soon considering the events. You stood in a short line to get the first ticket out, willing to take anything that would get you as far away from Overwatch as soon as possible. People stood at a distance, eyes averting not wanting to stare, but many clearly curious seeing the aftermath of the now infamous explosion. All around you there were whispers, faces turned to the side to make comments on your appearance, some asking questions that started with 'isn't she-?'. You clutched the folder to you like a child to a teddy bear and tried to ignore them.

The stares continued through security and to the gate, stares as you shuffled your way down the isle of the plane to your seat in the back. 

Everything felt empty. The smiles on the attendants faces as they carted the plane with complimentary drinks, the idle conversation you overheard of a couple at your side the whole flight, your body knowing Jack was no longer alive. Empty, empty, empty. You wished you could sleep to make the flight go by faster, but you never were good at sleeping on planes.

At least with the empty numbness all over your body, you could space out and turn off your mind. You didn't want to think about the sound of buildings falling, or the sounds of hundreds of windows shattering at once. You didn't want to think about the screams of trapped agents, or the way Gabe- 

No. You weren't going to think at all. 

* * *

**Involuntary Breath Holding**

Your head hurt. Multiple long flights and no sleep left you all the more anxious to be driving down the dirt way to the house in a rented car. 

It was night, dark skies and only a sliver of a moon shining in the sky. The house looked the same as you pulled up to it. Blue paint chipping away on well worn walls, big empty fields surrounding the lone building. It stood tall against the black skies, windows dark and uninviting as wind hit the sides in small bursts. 

You closed the car door behind you, left in complete darkness as you approached. You were shaking, unsure what to expect as you neared the door. You came all the way here, finally back at the home you were supposed to be sharing with the man you loved and you just couldn't bring yourself to open the door. Hand hovered over the knob, forehead pressing against the glass, your eyes fell to the porch swing where you sat curled against Jack on your first trip here, where you watched glowing sunsets and felt happy. You couldn't go inside. You couldn't do it. 

Maybe in the morning you would be able to face it. 

The porch swing creaked in the wind like a ghost calling out to you. You've slept in worse places. 

Instead of facing your emotions and going inside, you curled onto the seat holding the folder to your stomach and buried your face into the seat cushions. You weren't even sure how long it's been since you slept in a real bed, but you didn't care. The seat was too small to stretch out on, beams beneath jutting into your sides, but you _didn't care_. Your eyes closed, shoulders finally relaxing as your mind drifted from numb to rest and finally, after days of sheer willpower keeping you awake, you slept. 

When you woke, the sun was high in the sky and the bright light of day hurt your eyes. Your folder was still tucked against you, you still stunk, everything was still real even though you wished it wasn't. Your back was sore, aching at the base of your spine from sleeping in a weird position on an uncomfortable seat for so long. You groaned as you sat up, eyes scanning the grounds.

From here, you could see where the paparazzi would have been hidden to take pictures of you and Jack together. He once talked about putting up a tree line next to the road, it was a good idea. Maybe someday you would look into moving big mature trees along the line so no one could ever take pictures of you without your knowledge again. Not that they would try again anyways, there was no point in taking pictures of a woman grieving when the only person who people would read about was being buried across the globe without you there. 

With a deep breath you turned back to the door. 

Inside was exactly how you remembered it, exactly how you left it for the most part. The floor had dirty boot prints, evidence of the strike team Jack sent in to sweep the house after Tishler had managed to get in. Boxes were piled high on the other side of the room, boxes of furniture you pick out with him that needed to be put together, boxes holding little knickknacks that had been stored away, then tucked against the back of the old couch were long thin boxes sitting next to supplies for wall paper removal.   

You stood swaying in the open living room, haunted by the reams of blue wallpaper rolled and tucked away. A wall had already been cleared, sitting in wait for someone to come in and rip down the ugly old floral paper. Now alone and hidden behind curtains, you stripped down to underwear, removing the horrible uniform that reeked of death and you kicked it down the dark hall towards the bedroom.

Finally things were hitting you. Everything you'd been keeping down since your breakdown after the explosion, since finding out your commander was dead, was finally coming to a ripping release in your chest.

"Breathe." Jack told you the first time he touched you, the first time he touched your scars. 

You were taking big breaths now, too big and it hurt your lungs, hurt your chest as you shook just on the cusp of a complete break down. You were staring at the floral wall like it was a wild animal, pacing around in front of it and staring it down like it would move and hurt you just like everything else in this life had. Your heart was racing and amping itself up as if you were about to get in a fight. You stared at the empty peeling wall across from you with burning eyes, you stared until the sun set behind the hills and you were left in darkness lit only by an almost gone moon across fields that felt creepier than they ever had before.

Without a care you opened the bourbon bottle that sat atop the fridge covered in dust and gulped down burning shots until you were gagging from the taste. Your chest shuddered when you turned on a light above and illuminated the room in soft yellow. 

Just one breath pushed out a little too hard and suddenly that was it. You were gripping at your stomach, crying and screaming at that stupid shitty wall as if it was _its_ fault your world fell apart around you. The sobs that left you were guttural, ugly, and nothing would stop them. You wanted to punch someone, or something. You wanted to run to the room of a good friend and feel safe, but everyone was gone, everyone died or abandoned Overwatch and you were the only one left standing in the aftermath to pick up pieces. Your mind was shattering just like the mirrored walls of the elevator when Jack and Gabe fought, your mind was flashing red with the same warning lights as you clawed at the floral wallpaper. 

The house creaked as it settled and the stilled air filled with the sound of unstoppable sobs when you started with the lifted edge, tearing with your hands until old glue lifted and ripped away leaving the wall a shredded floral and wood mess. Bits of paper covered the floor, stuck sections clung to the wall desperately trying to force the past to stay in your vision. You drank, and cried, and cried some more, surrounded by memories that belonged to someone else. The emptiness he left you behind hurt your chest as you screamed into hallway, as if he could hear you crying out his name and cursing Overwatch. You couldn't bring yourself to wander down the hall to see the bedroom you put together with him. You didn't think your heart would be able to handle the sight of it. 

The screams that ripped through your body as you cried were painful. You couldn't breathe through the horrible thick mucus, you could feel your heart tearing in two in your chest as it burned with a fire of anger and hate. Ends of fingernails bled as you tore the wallpaper from the wood wall, splinters embedding deep into your fingertips. Your whole body was shaking until your voice was almost gone. You were so angry. So fucking angry that you were so alone, that everyone you loved was gone and all you had left of your entire life up to this point was disgusting fatigues, a dead phone, and a folder full of documents.

That night you passed out curled in a ball on the hard floor of the living room. Face pinked and swollen from crying harder than you ever had in your life, body aching in every muscle and shivering in the cold as morning spilled into the windows. You slept surrounded by torn up pieces of wallpaper. You slept only because your body physically couldn't be awake any longer, a mix of drinking old whiskey and body wrenching pain exhausted you to the point that not even another building falling could have woke you. 

Your head pounded from dehydration and a massive hangover as you cracked your eyes open to morning sunlight. 

"Mornin' sunshine." You could just hear Jesse's voice in your mind, just as warm as it was on countless mornings when he'd open your door on base. "Whew you reek, you know that?" His chuckle echoed through your skull.

"Get out of here Jesse, I'm getting up." You said aloud, groaning as you pushed yourself from the floor. Your eyes scanned the room and you expected him to be leaned up against a wall somewhere, smoking that damn cigar of his but he was nowhere to be found. On your feet you had to take a few moments to reorient yourself. Everything felt upside down, the wall you slept across from was a torn disaster. You looked to your hands, fingertips bruised and scabbing over with split nails and bits of wood splintered beneath your skin, your first thought was that you needed to go to medical, but that wasn't an option anymore.    

Everything looked dull, colors muted and the sounds of your feet dragging across the ground seemed out of place. You reached for your phone, laid out next to you on the floor. At some point in the night it must have fell from your grip without you realizing, the screen was cracked from the corner with cracks like lightning all across. You set your phone on the counter with a fleeting mental note to buy a charger whenever you went into town. You leaned against the walls as you made your way to the bathroom. It felt like your body was going to give out with every step and each moment you got closer you felt more and more like you'd be hurling into a porcelain bowl the moment you turned the lights on. 

"We coulda helped you, you know." Jesse's voice sounded like it was calling you from down the hall and you could swear you hear the rattling of his spurs coming towards you. 

"I didn't need your help." You shook your head. You knew he wasn't there, you knew you were talking to no one.

"Sure. Take a look at yourself darlin', clearly you're seem like you're doin' just fine." You knew you were just imagining his sarcastic voice, but still you turned to look over your shoulder only to see the long empty hall before you curled around the corner of a door frame into the bathroom.

You flicked on the light and paused in unintended horror. Everything you saw wasn't dull, it was completely in black and white. Your eyes were solid black from one corner to the other, just like- You brought your fingers to your cheeks, pulling at the skin and opening your lids wider. Black. Black. All of the eye was completely black. You could see details on your skin you'd never seen before. Freckles beneath the surface of the skin, every paper cut, every scratch that scarred over from years ago. You could see the stitch marks on your arms around your burns where medical staff held your skin together. Worst of all, around your neck you could see the remains of marks from hands that almost killed you. You could see dark spots littered across your throat where he squeezed the hardest, where he cut off your air supply, your stomach lurched and you fell forward leaning on the counter in a hard gasp as you realized he could see this _every time_ his eyes were like this and your neck was exposed. Every single time he was reminded of what he did to you and he never told you. 

"Well ain't that a pretty sight?" Jesse's voice sounded like it was right against your eardrums, mocking you. 

"Gabe-" You cried out, covering your mouth as you blinked through dry burning eyes. "Why didn't you say anything?" Your mouth was straining, lips twitching with a deep pained sadness. You couldn't take the sight and you forced yourself to look down, stopping yourself from looking in the mirror, from looking at _this_ any longer.   

"You think that man ever gave a shit 'bout you? Couldn't you see he was usin' you 'cause he couldn't manipulate me and Genji?" 

"You're not real." You gasped out, squeezing your eyes shut. "I know you're not real!" You could still feel his presence behind you. You could feel the hesitation to leave, but you turned with anger stitched across your face, ready to throw a punch at an imaginary man, only to find when you twisted behind you nothing was there. You were all alone here. All alone in this damn farm house. All alone and hearing voice of someone you should have listened to. 

You're stronger than this. You knew you were. You stared at the shower handle and forced yourself to turn it on, forced yourself to finally wash away the layers that had built up over your skin. As you stood under the water you watched the water dirty, staining the runoff as it swirled down the drain. The only soap here was the cheap stuff, the kind Jack used and you would smell like him. It was stupid, you felt stupid, but you held the bar to your nose and closed your eyes, imagining he was right here with you, just behind you in the shower. You missed taking showers with him, even though he would hog all the water.

With a steadying breath you washed every inch of your skin, you tried to rise off every molecule of that explosion off your skin, every remnant of Reinhardt's blood that soaked into you clothes and into your soul. You scrubbed away the ash that had settled on parts you couldn't clean using just cell block or airport sinks. You washed and washed and stayed until the water until it ran ice cold and still you stayed to clean more. You stayed until you were shivering and knocking your teeth together and you couldn't take it anymore.

Finally clean, or as clean as you could get, you carefully walked through each room covered in a fluffy towel, hair dripping onto the floor and clinging cold against the back of your neck. Passing by the mirror, your eyes were back to normal. You stared into them with a deep sadness, one that you imagined was how you'd looked at Gabe countless times and your heart clenched in your chest. Fingertips glided along the walls as you pushed yourself to explore the house. It felt wrong being here alone. To wander through a house that should have been shared with a man who would fill it with piano music and the sound of his boisterous laugh. 

The bedroom was still the same. 

The furniture you built together still there, the sheets you helped him lay over the bed still there, the lace curtains you stared at all night after he told you he loved you time and time again, still there blocking out bright sunlight. His closet had leftover shirts, ones he only wore when he was trying to be incognito, but they smelled like him and they felt like him and before you knew it your fingers were pulling one from the hanger and settling it over your body like a comfort blanket. It was too big on you, the hem of it hanging down to the middle of your thighs, arm holes stretched out from years of use, but it was soft and it felt like he was hugging you. 

The bed was still made with military precision. Perfectly setup and waiting for you to crawl in, but you didn't want to mess with Jack's handiwork, so instead you curled on top of it and brought a throw blanket over your legs. Maybe you would sleep for just a little longer. You were sad and hungover and just a little more sleep would help you face the day.  

* * *

 

**Unconsciousness**

Grieving does weird things to people. Sometimes it's laying on the top of a bed you refused to get in, or eating food left on your porch from a concerned neighbor who heard you scream crying for nights on end. Sometimes it was spending hours blocking out everything in your mind and turning off the noise of the explosion in your brain by picking apart wall paper piece by piece. Sometimes it was ignoring knocks on the door while you sat hidden in the shadow of a long hallway, convincing yourself the voices you heard on the other side were coming from your mind.

You didn't want to see anyone, or want anyone to see you. For days you mind numbingly wandered the house and slept where you sat. Your brain would play tricks on you every time you woke to the sunrise. 

"Mornin' sunshine." Jesse's voice would say when you cracked open your eyes. He'd remind you to bathe, remind you to eat, remind you that you still needed to go into the town and get your paperwork sorted and function like an adult. 

You'd hear his voice for a while. It would keep you company and every now and then you caught yourself talking back, but then you'd turn to look at him and realize he wasn't there. You'd get angry. Throw things at the direction your mind pointed you until he shut up for the day. You felt like you were going crazy. You needed to leave the house, you needed to speak to someone other than yourself. 

Sometimes you'd hear Gabe, but you pushed everything he said to the back of your mind, trying not to let his voice overwhelm you. Jesse's you could handle. Gabe's was dangerous. Gabe's was far away and sinking claws into you. 

"Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?" He asked you when you accidentally burned your tongue by over-microwaving left overs.  

"You can still join me." He'd whisper when you'd try to sleep, trying to drag you down to his level. 

"Jack didn't even know the half of it." He'd growl when you drop something on accident. 

You weren't even sure how long you'd been cooped up in the house hearing voices. You had a pile of pans and tupperware belonging to a neighboring rancher, one you needed to thank, and on a rainy afternoon you finally packed everything into the car and drove to the next house over. The rancher was out on his porch, looking over his cattle and his old face smiled as you approached with an armful to return.  

"Glad to see you ate them, I was getting concerned I was gonna have to break down the door to check on you!" He held out his arms to take the containers away from you. An omnic emerged from the house, oven mitts on and waved at you. 

"I appreciate this, I really do. Thank you." 

"It's the least we could do. The whole town is really shaken with the news that we lost Little Johnny, sorry, that we lost Commander Jack. Everybody thought he'd be coming home at some point, you know? You're welcome here any time." 

You tried to force a smile and nod as a thank you again, but you could tell it wasn't coming off as genuine. That told you everything you needed to know. The whole town knew, everyone knew he was gone, and that probably meant they knew 'the girl from the pictures' was living in his house. This only became more apparent as you forced yourself to run the rest of the errands you needed. 

While you were in public you would hear Genji. He would tell you to keep your attention focused, to always stay alert. You sat across from a banker who couldn't stop their eyes from flickering to your scars between words as you stared at their calendar finally realizing what day it was and how long it had been since the explosion. You ignored the whispers and turned conversations as you passed by people on the street and bought basic clothes so you wouldn't be wearing Jack's shirts and blood stained combat pants, somehow weeks had slipped by without you noticing. It felt like everyone was staring, it felt like everyone knew you'd become a shell of a person. Like they knew who you were and that you didn’t belong there, but you pulled up your hood and tried not to meet anyone’s eyes.

You picked up a phone charger, and other little things to start over. You walked around like you were on autopilot, numb to the horrible buzzing in the back of your skull that was telling you to get out of there, that you were in danger every second. It was at the end of a frozen food aisle you saw a man, taller than most, with a bright blue commander jacket and striking blond hair faced away from you. 

"Jack?" You gasped. "Jack!" Your heart was beating in your throat, he was right there. He's so close. 

Your feet took off running before you could give it a second thought, leaving the cart of food behind. You chased the phantom as it hurried away from you, around a corner and through another aisle until you turned and suddenly he was gone. No trace, nowhere to hide, your mind's creation of Jack had vanished into thin air, just like he did from your life and you were left panting and shaking on the verge of being sick because you really thought he was there. You were hearing voices and seeing ghosts and you didn't want to have a breakdown in such a public place but you missed him, so fucking much, that it hurt in every fiber of your body and stuck into your stomach like sewing needles stitching you back together again. 

It took a while, longer than it should have, but you managed to catch your breath enough to focus on finishing this last task before you went back home. The last thing you grabbed was from the pastry section. A cupcake, single serving in its own container. You didn't even look at the flavor, your eyes fell to one with bright blue frosting, commander blue and waiting patiently for you beneath florescent lighting. You leaned heavy on the cart, chewing at cuticles and the cuts on your fingers, able to make it to the check out where you saw magazine after magazine talking about the explosion still. The one closest to you had your name on the cover, one of the pictures taken from years ago when you were kissing Jack at the farm house in the corner, questioning why you didn't attend the funeral for him. You glared at it. Eyes fixated on the way it referred to you as his 'secret lover' until the cashier was calling out for the next in line. 

You thought about that magazine the whole drive home. The whole time you were putting away groceries. Your mind echoed 'secret lover' through the hollows of your skull as you phone lit to life for the first time in weeks and it was absolutely bombarded message after message. You knew all too soon to flip it to silent so it wouldn't keep notifying you, so you would slip like you did that night Arntz messaged you. In the back of your mind Gabe was telling you to let it ring. To let yourself feel angry, just like he did. 

The first thing you did was look through your pictures. You took a deep breath and scrolled through old memories.  

Mostly pictures of sunsets and food, your heart hurt with regret now not getting more pictures of the people around you. There were a handful of you and Jesse, mostly goofing off during missions and making ugly faces at the camera. There were even less of ones with you and Jack, or you and Gabe. The crack in the screen was making it worse, their faces beneath it looked fractured and eyes haunting you. You were going to make yourself cry if you kept looking at them. Quickly your thumb closed the pictures and brought up your messages. There were too many, way too many to read through all of them. Too much of it was from agents who you barely knew, messages of condolences or questions about what happened. 

You set your phone down, eyes glancing to the clock. It was almost midnight.

"I miss you, Jack." You said aloud to yourself, rubbing hands over swollen eyes lids. "I wish you were here. Everything went to shit so fast and you don't... you don't even know everything." Your hands worked on the cupcake container, prying open the plastic and placing the unnaturally bright dessert on a tiny plate. "I promise. I'm going to be a better person. I'm going to be the person you thought I was, from now on. I'll be someone you could be proud of." Your little pep talk to yourself was actually making a little light in your heart glow. You could use the abilities you had for good. You could be someone who helps people, just like you were supposed to be doing with Overwatch in the first place. You were lost, but you could come back.

Part of you hoped you would hear his voice. You wanted to hear it, just one more time, but the room stayed silent. 

You sat with the cupcake at the table, legs crossed in the chair moving the plate center in front of you. From an old box you found tucked away in a junk drawer you carefully picked out a white candle and sunk it into the bright blue frosting. You turned to the clock. One minute away from midnight. From another tiny box you fumbled with picking out a match and striking it against the side. It took a few tries, but finally the stick lit with a flame and a familiar burning smell filled the air. You held it between fingertips in a tight pinch, carefully just far enough away from the candle that it wouldn't light until the clock stuck midnight.        

With a flick of your wrist the flame was out on the match and the candle was glowing brightly just far enough away from your face.

You tried to smile at it. Tried to give yourself a lonely moment of happiness. Your eyes closed and you made a wish in your mind that you knew was impossible- wishes for people to come back from the dead are impossible to fulfill.  

"Happy birthday." A low chuckle said right up against your ear. 

A chill ran up your spine.

Larger than life hands landed at the height of your shoulders, squeezing you tightly enough to make your whole body tense up. The voice was familiar and sending a spike of panic directly to your heart, it was a voice you should never hear again, a voice that should have died with the man as he was blown to bits with a shotgun. When you opened your eyes the world was black and white, cupcake frosting no longer a vivid blue, but across the table sat a large man with dark eyes a scar along the side of his head, his whole body in full color. Tishler was smiling the way he did when he was injecting you.

You tried to scramble from your chair, instead tripping over yourself and falling backwards hitting your head hard against the ground, hard enough to knock you out. 

* * *

 

**Hypoxic Convulsion**

"Good morning, sunshine." Tishler would say when you opened your eyes. Jesse's voice was gone, replaced by a mad man. Jesse was completely gone, every morning, replaced by Tishler who you could see and hear and it threatened to drive you crazy. 

You ignored him. You ignored that you could see him, just in your peripherals, at any given moment. You tried to get into a routine- waking early, making small repairs, getting together parts for a hacking setup, running laps around the farm. You tried to focus, tried not to be the crybaby Tishler's voice told you that you were. Gabe's voice was gone, criticisms replaced by hard pushes to give in to something you didn't want to become, his voice pushing you towards Gabe's path. His voice would remind you what you did, the agents you killed, that you were ready to kill _him_. 

At nights you would try to sleep, resting on top of the bed under the throw blanket and for brief moments you would feel Jack's arms around you, ghosts of his love haunting you and making your heart jump before Tishler's voice would hiss in your ear and you'd jolt up with your fists flying through the air. You were alone, but your mind wouldn't let you be left alone.  

Every time you tried to have a moment of silence you would hear him. Every time you tried to check the messages on your phone, or the voicemails, he would tell you it wasn't worth it. 

In the first month of living at the farm house you received three different packages in your name. First, a little box with instructions to keep refrigerated from a tall friend in Italy which you left unopened and put behind everything else completely out of sight in the fridge. Second, a small box just a bit bigger than the size of your fist, sent from India and addressed to you with Morrison as your last name which you couldn’t bring yourself to open and left high on a shelf hoping to forget about it. The last one was in a box so heavy the mail carrier had to use a dolly to get it in the house and you left it sitting in the middle of the mostly empty living room, Tishler's voice would goad you to open it but you were too scared to.

You stared at it for hours some nights, afraid something would pop out and scare you. You leaned back on the dusty old couch, laughing coldy as you pushed hair from your face. Something popping out of it, like a Jack-In-The-Box, but you could only wish there was a Jack in this box that would jump out at you. You must have read the sender address a hundred times just to be sure. It came from the Overwatch recovery team. The box was big enough and heavy enough that you knew it was something more than Gabe’s dog tags, but you couldn’t quite figure out what exactly Overwatch would send you that would be this heavy.

You couldn't do it though. Instead you hid it beneath a blanket, away from sight and told yourself you would open it when the house was setup. When everything was in place and you felt strong enough, you would open it.  

The locals probably thought you were insane. For weeks you made drastic changes to the house. Jack would have liked them, you think. 

You were still lucid enough to know you came off as a paranoid lunatic, but you weren’t taking any chances and offered no explanations. You could hear the whispers from the contractors putting in your bullet proof windows, you saw the sideways glances from the workers installing triple sealed siding on the house so nothing could get in through the walls, you saw the look of surprise on salesman's face when you asked for a storm door that could keep out flood water higher than the second story. You saw the way the planters looked at each other when they thought your turned you back as the lined the road to the property with big mature trees. You were turning that little farmhouse into a fortress, one that no one would be able to get through without you knowing. No one would get out with you knowing.

You left the bedroom how it was. It was perfect after you hung up new curtains you put up to completely block out the sunlight. The smaller bedroom across hall, his childhood room, you converted to the best hacking setup you could, putting the money he left you to good use. The bathroom, the kitchen, the living room all upgraded to a mix of your style and his. You left the upstairs loft untouched, only wanting to complete that part when you found someone who could repair the piano, and when you had people in your life you'd want to invite over.    

Bravery came back slowly. 

It started with the first strip of pale blue wallpaper, at the bottom were shimmery little curls, some becoming flowers and it reminded you so much of his eyes. It took a whole day just for you to put up one section, taking breaks to fight off Tishler's insults and the reminders that Jack wasn't here to help you reach the tallest sections. You started listening to the voicemails as you put it up, finding comfort in the voices that you didn't just hear in your head. 

"Hey, it's Winston, uh, I was just calling to make sure you were doing okay. I looked in your file and saw you were released from Overwatch, sorry to pry, I was just hoping you'd give me a call some time? You're welcome to stop by whenever you want, I hope you know that. We could work on a new project together... if you wanted! Anyways, I miss talking to you. I hope we can catch up soon. I hope you're doing okay. Yeah. Okay, bye." 

"Genji here. Sorry I am late calling you, I have been traveling and just heard the news. They said you are alive, but... I would like to hear it from you."   

"You've really got to update that voicemail message love! Just wanted to call to see how you were holding up, well I hope? No one's heard from you or knows where you went, give us call yeah? Oh, it's Lena, by the way. Talk to you soon!" 

"This is an automated call for the primary beneficiary of a- Jack Morrison-, you are receiving this call because the secondary beneficiary has declined all potential claims and the rights will now default to the primary beneficiary. You have ninety days to contact to us to claim your rights to the remaining items. Our offices are open six am to six pm pacific standard time and we can be reached at-" 

"Message deleted." 

"I don't know if you're still in Switzerland, but if you need a place to stay you are more than welcome at my home. Even though you've been here before I can send you the address, if needed. Come over, I'll make you that kartoffeln that I know you loved so much, yes? You can meet my goddaughter, she's staying at my home as my apprentice, I think you and her would get along swimmingly! I hope to see you soon, wir sprechen uns bald!" 

"Hey, sunshine. I, um, I'm not sure what to say. I wish you woulda picked up your damn phone, but I guess I knew you never did that anyways. I, um, I don't exactly have a number you can reach me at, so I guess I'll just keep tryin' you? Love you darlin'. I hope you're taking care of yourself, wherever you are." 

"I know you don't want to hear from me-"

"Message deleted."  

Your second wave of bravery came in the form of opening the heavy box in the living room, with a little help. You sat across from it, eyes wandering to the almost empty bottle of whiskey. It wasn’t the healthy way to deal with this, but if you were going to find out what was in there, you were going to need some extra courage. You hissed out when you drank down enough to make you warm, enough to not dread using one of Genji’s blades to cut open the top of the box.

Inside, wrapped heavily in bubble wrap and floating in packing peanuts, was a dented black safe. You stared at it for a moment, mind processing what you were looking at for just a little too long before it clicked that this was the safe from Jack’s room on base. As soon as you realized, you were tearing off the box and wrapping with reckless abandon. The door was dented in, lock destroyed likely from when the barracks crumbled on top of it during the explosion. You put one foot on the safe, gripping your hands into the cracked door and pulling as hard as you could until the door popped off and you were able to finally see what Jack had been hiding away from you.

At the front were your pictures from the charity event. Pictures of you and him, you and Gabe and Jesse. Your knees gave out under you and you sat on the floor in front of the safe, one hand over your mouth trying to hold back sobs and the other flipping through the pristine pictures that taken before things took a turn for the worst. It hurt your heart to stare at them.

"Aw, how sweet, look at you all pretending to be happy." Tishler's voice curled around your ears like smoke and made your lungs jump. 

"We weren't pretending, we _were_ happy." You set them in a neat pile on a side table trying to make the mental note to actually get them framed and hang them somewhere- somewhere where you would be able to remind yourself of better times every day. 

Just beneath the pictures was a holstered handgun and a tiny box of bullets to go with it. You uncovered the weapon, flipping it over a few times in your hand. It was heavy in your grip, black and cold there was an inscription on the bottom of the handle mounted on with a tiny gold plate.

“SEP 76.” Tishler said aloud for you. "He trusted you with the shirt, but not the gun. Maybe he knew something was wrong the whole time? He probably thought you'd be too dangerous with it." 

"Shut up." Your cheeks burned.

You missed the SEP shirt more than anything else that got destroyed, other than Jack, of course. You wondered why he would have kept this in the safe, maybe as a sentimental token or an emergency back up if he needed it while in the room. All you knew was you had never seen him use it. With a careful grip you placed it back in the plain holster, setting it to the side along with the bullets and you reach back into the safe pulling out a folder and sending something clattering to the back. 

The folder had his documents in it. Birth certificate, social security card, military papers, SEP release forms, everything important he would ever need. It was morbid, but you looked to your own black folder sitting on the kitchen counter where his death certificate was tucked away. You supposed you should put them all together. The complete life and death of Jack Morrison, his story all wrapped up in one unmarked manila envelope. 

The last thing in the safe was the hardest one for you to open. Not physically, no. But just from the shape and the size you could guess what was in it. The box was small, white, opened in the center. It was obviously a ring box. 

"You must be completely full of yourself to think a ring is actually in there? You think Jack would have wanted to marry a woman like you?" Tishler's hands were cupping yours around the box, keeping it tightly closed. Whatever was in here would break your heart, you knew that. Whatever he chose you knew he made sure it was something that you would love. You would have loved anything he proposed to you with. 

Careful fingers pried open the box, a tiny light activated on the inside to show off the shiny stones on the ring. You couldn't breathe. It was perfect. 

It was dainty, two thin strands of diamonds twisting together. It was small, nothing flashy, but it was exactly what you wanted. One strand of diamonds was black, the other a brilliant white. Your heart hurt. He knew you wouldn't want something traditional, he knew you'd want something that connected all parts of your life together, and he chose something that intertwined the light and dark and it went deeper than he could have ever realized. For once, Tishler's voice was quiet. He let you enjoy the moment of looking at a ring that meant he wanted to be connected to you forever, a ring he'd hidden away for who knows how long, a ring that you slipped onto your finger with the intention of never in your life taking off again. 

It was a perfect fit. Even in death, this was a way to feel connected to him, this was how you were going to remind yourself to be the person he knew you could always be. 

* * *

**Clinical Death**

You were gentle with your left hand for a while, careful not to move it too suddenly or to hit it on door frames as you moved through the house. You were careful as you hung the framed pictures of the charity event, careful with your eyes as you stared in Gabe's. 

"He's dead now." Tishler said and you almost felt his breath against your neck. "Told you himself."   

Gabriel Reyes was certainly fucking dead alright.

It took everything in you not to think back to the moment you realized that. The moment you realized nothing would ever be the same. 

___

In the orange smoke of the fallen buildings settling into flickering electrical fires you spotted particularly black smoke slowly making its way unnaturally across the ground away from the fields and towards the Blackwatch flight bay. You let out a gasp and ran after it, jumping over chunks of buildings scattered across the ground, ducking through destroyed archways and yelling for him to wait. Reinhardt was screaming your name behind you, begging you to come back, begging you to help but you wouldn't listen.

You stumbled over broken concrete and splattering mud patches, running to keep up with the smoke until you watched it slithering into the fallen flight bay. The large overhang was open, metal roof crushed in from the beams giving out during the explosion and wrecks of exploded ship parts were scattered across mud covered rubble. You looked at a matte black plane, crushed from big chunks of building concrete and you witnessed the body of a particularly bloody super soldier struggling to stand over a crushed up familiar black box.

“Gabriel!” You screamed, voice breaking as you came to a skidding halt just feet from him. Rain was pouring, hitting your eyes making it hard to see through. 

He had never looked more unhinged. Thick black smoke swirled around his body, unaffected by the rain coming down. He was covered in blood- his own, you hoped. Most of it came from an X shaped gash on his back going across each shoulder and cutting the back of his shirt open. His head was bleeding, you think from a wound somewhere on the top, but you could see a deep cut going down his face just missing the edge of his eye at the corner, it looked like his skin caught on something sharp at his chin and ripped up into his hairline. He was bruising, quickly. Bruises across his face, under a split lip, on his wrists where it looked like he forced his way out of handcuffs. His skin was turning an ashy green beneath his usual dark tone. He was turning the color of death.

But none of this scared you as much as his eyes.  

Black endless eyes you were used to. Black endless eyes no longer scared you. Black endless eyes _now_ had burning red irises in the center. Red rings that snapped in your direction and seemed to look through your body like he could see the very making of your soul. You didn't realize it at the time, but this was no longer the man you knew. This, was Reaper. 

“I’m going to kill every single one of them with my own two hands for this!” He screamed at you, smoke swirling around him down to the ground, his body swinging towards your direction as one hand gripped his Reaper mask. "Talon is going down, if it's the last fucking thing I do!"   

“You don’t have to do this Gabe-!” You were shaking your head as tears streamed down your cheeks. “Please, sit down! You need medical attention!”

He looked halfway dead already. Struggling to stand, bleeding out rapidly, there was no way he was going to survive this. He ripped his dog tags from his neck, the metal shiny with fresh blood.

“Bury these.” They dangled in his fist as he held them out to you. “Gabriel Reyes is dead. Mourn for him, regret the chance you had to kill him but couldn’t.”

“No-” You cried, unable to move. He stumbled forward towards you and forced the identification into your hand, smearing his blood across your skin then moving his palms to cup your cheeks. Your heart couldn't keep up with your mind. His thumbs were stroking your chin, grazing across your bottom lip as tears streamed down the sides of your face.  

“Get as far away from Talon as you can. Get off the grid. Keep yourself safe and away from me." He looked at you with as soft of an expression as he could make. He was hurting, not just physically, but here, like this, it was ruining him. 

The rain was trying to wash away the blood pouring from his skull but he was bleeding out too fast. You shoved the dog tags in your pocket without thought, quickly shooting your hands up to his face trying to find a stopping point, trying to find anywhere you could put pressure to stop the bleeding. He had a calmness over his expression. One that scared you beyond the blood you saw. 

"It's okay." He mumbled. "You don't have to worry about me. I can live through this. Overwatch will hate me. Everyone will hate me. I'll be the enemy. I don't care, as long as you're safe, that's all that matters." The way he was looking at you, it could have killed you if you let it. Even with glowing red irises, even covered in blood, you could see the deep love he held in his heart, you could see it was hurting him to tell you to go. 

“Is Morrison dead?” You choked out, afraid the anwser would be yes and that it was at Gabe's hands. 

He laughed.

“Dr. Zeigler and her team found us. Do you know what they said? ‘If we have to chose one to save, it needs to be the Strike Commander’. Poster boy gets a bit roughed up and I’m there bleeding next to him, and they chose to save him instead. Just like always, Jack always gets first pick. They left me to die there. They took him away and left me to fucking bleed out! No one checked my pulse, no one checked if I was breathing. They wanted me dead, so I will be.”

“I’m sure they were going to come back for you-”

“Were _you_ going to come back for me?” He was gritting his teeth and you could see the blood in his mouth. “Or were you going to choose Jack, again?”

"Gabe, please-"

"Everyone has either died or abandoned me. I know this. Don't make this harder than it has to be. Hate me. Despise me and that will make it easier for me to turn my back on you and join the organization we've done so much to fight against. Please, I need to know you won't try to follow me. Gabe is gone. I'll do whatever it takes to get out of here and take down that shit hole, even if it means becoming the monster I always knew I'd be, even if that means hurting you again. I need you to tell me you hate me, I need you to want nothing to do with me."   

"I can't." Your voice was caught in your throat. "I can't hate you, Gabe. You know that."

"Then come with me. Help me take Talon down. We can do it together, I know we can."  

You stood in the silence. The sounds of rain hitting the ground and hitting you bounced around, the sounds of buildings falling in on themselves and distant screams filled the air around you like a weighted blanket keeping you grounded to the mud. His endless eyes were pleading. Red rings staring into yours in way you'd never experienced. Your heart couldn't take it. This wasn't what you wanted. You wanted to be with Jack, you wanted to know he was okay and you wanted to help people you promised to protect. Hundreds of people were screaming beneath buildings for help, and that's where you were really needed.  

You backed up from him. The only comfort you could offer was a soft kiss to his palm and you stepped backwards. 

"Should I be scared of you?" You asked breathing out, face twisted and afraid of the answer, but not of him. 

"Yes." Was all he managed to say as his shoulders tensed and he picked his mask up from the ground, gripping it tight. 

"Goodbye, Reaper." You held your arms loosely around you. In the distance Reinhardt had almost caught up, screaming your name and begging for help. "I can't follow you, but I hope you finish your mission. If Gabe ever comes back, find me. I'll forgive him, just like I always have." 

___ 

"Jack would be ashamed of you." Tishler's voice pressed against your brain like needles digging into your cortex. "You should have killed him, then maybe you wouldn't have been in this mess in the first place."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you still here? ( ˶˘ ³˘(˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°˵)♡ This was the worst of it, I promise. Now it's time we get some sweet, sweet validation!


	38. Hallucinating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Routines, hallucinations, doctors.

Sometimes, in the early hours of the morning, through cracks in the curtains you would open your eyes as you laid on top of a bed you couldn't bring yourself to lay between the sheets in, while your vision was blurry and your mind still sleeping, and you'd see visions of blond hair across the pillow from you. You'd see a bright smile and kind eyes, but it wasn't long before everything cleared and the moment of peace was ruined but a hallucinated Tishler smiling wickedly laying in the bed with you.

“Good morning, sunshine.” His voice, sticky like honey, would ooze into your eardrums and gunk up the hollows of your skull until you forced your heavy head to lift from the pillow.

You fell into the same routine every morning. First checking the mirror, greeted by endless black eyes. You would check your body, turning this way and that, heart racing in fear that you would see smoke rising from your shoulders, but it never came. Afterwards you would drag yourself to the kitchen, staring at the open fridge and deciding on the same thing time and time again. You’d eat, or sometimes forget the food all together, as you scrubbed through the nights security footage around the farm. Usually the flood lights outside the house would trigger when deer or excessively fat raccoons would wander onto the property in the middle of the night. Your eyes would scrutinize every moving shadow, looking for monsters in the dark but never finding any.

Once all the color came back and you were sure your eyes were back to normal, and after triple checking all the cameras, you would run the perimeter of the farm. Waving hello the neighbors as they tended to their cows, pretending like you were just out for a jog when you were really checking for any tampering with your security. Sometimes when the light would hit the fields just right, golden sun shining over endless dirt, you’d think you’d see Jack running alongside you. Your mind would hear a second set of steps in the dirt running next to yours, the corners of your eyes would catch flashes of commander blue uniforms but every time you turned there would be nothing there.

“Faster, agent.” Tishler would growl from the back of your neck when you slowed to glimpse at whispered visions of Jack.      

By the afternoons you would be back in the house, checking on any changes to a message you put out to other hackers who were just as brave as you were. Hidden in the codes of Talon security systems, embedded deep in military backdoor data centers, you left your mark- a small message to contact you using a lightning bolt symbol as your moniker, only uncoverable by hackers who were either on the same level as you or better. You didn’t expect anyone to contact you, didn’t expect anyone would be as crazy as you were to hack into such high security systems, but anyone that did made it past your footprints in the codes would also be on the same mission you were- and you wanted them on your side.

“Do you really think some stranger would agree to your suicide mission?” Tishler would ask you, his face reflected in the dark of a screen at your side.

You offered protection. Money. A way in to Talon. Anything someone would need to infiltrate the terrorist organization, your only request that they track Reapers every move. Everyday you checked if someone agreed to the mission, everyday your heart paused in anticipation, and everyday you were left defeated with no responses.

This lead to you searching everywhere you could for news of him. You looked everywhere, but it was almost as if he died along with Gabriel. No sightings. No news stories of murders or break ins. Complete silence, and that was almost scarier.

Occasionally you would wander into public, but you preferred to stay at home. Home was where you could talk back to Tishler without the wide eyed judgmental stares of families. Home was where you could catch glimpses of Jack and have to catch your breath when you realized time and time again that he was dead. Home was where you knew Reaper couldn’t get to you. The thought of smoke and burning red eyes surrounding you as you slept would keep you awake at night. Every moment you’d told him things would be okay, every punch you ever threw in practice, the hesitation in you when he begged to be killed, it would all flood back to you and the worst part wasn’t that you were afraid of him finding you, is was that you were afraid of giving in to let him finally crush a final breath from your throat with no fight.

Every night you would try to sleep and only drift off after hours of fighting with yourself. Every night Tishler would tell you push yourself, to test what other secrets could be hiding in your blood. You would try to drown him out with the voicemails waiting for you from unanswered calls. Some were still the concerned voices of friends from a lifetime ago, others job offers or journalists wanting to find out what your life had become post-Jack.  

Sometimes you would feel brave enough to search up one of the videos with Jack in it. Videos of interviews or speeches, videos of him smiling and putting on a classic commander smirk. You’d pause them and just look at the way he lit up when he was proud of his work, but your heart twisted in your chest. Tishler refused to let you hear him. Any words from Jack’s mouth were replaced by Tishler’s voice. Your mind was blocking you from even having a sliver of him left and it was daring you to walk down a path you’d avoided for so long. Tishler would hold you back, arms clawing at you and dragging you back into the house, keeping you glued to your chair away from the outside world. He was your anchor weighing you down as you drowned and you were sick of it. 

For eight months you were stuck in the same routine.

Eight months of talking to yourself.

Eight months of torturing yourself.

Eight months of waiting for a response.

Eight months of Jack blurred in the sides of your vision.

Eight months of Tishler whispering to look at something you knew you didn’t want to see.

“Good morning, sunshine.” He smiled at you with that awful smile as sun peeked through the curtains, just as he had been for months. “Is today the day?”

Your vision of him followed you to your computer setup where you hesitantly sat, curling your legs to your chest before bringing up the Overwatch data systems.

“You can do it.” You could feel his voice twisting over your own vocal chords, heavy with the taste of forest fire. “It’d be so easy, you know exactly how their systems work and they’re more vulnerable than ever now that Overwatch is on the verge of being disbanded. Just a peek. I know you want to see for yourself.”

It was almost as if you could feel Tishler’s hands on top of yours, guiding you with every single keystroke, every click and swipe of the screens. Maybe just this once, one time, you would listen to him. Your heart was beating hard against your chest, swelling with each classified breech further into their systems. Past the agent files, past the declarations of death until you finally reached what you really were after.

Autopsy reports.       
  
Your finger hovered over the button confirming to decrypt Commander Jack Morrison’s file. There was no going back from what you would read, or what you might see, but you had to know for yourself if he suffered. You were suffering not knowing what his final moments were really like. The thought of Gabe and him, trapped under rubble before Jack was pulled away by medical teams haunted you day in and day out. With a click you chewed at your cuticles, ripping at sensitive skin, waiting for everything to load.

The report was shorter than you thought it would be. You scrolled through just catching what you could at first until you reached the pictures. Your stomach practically jumped from your body as you looked through them.

“Oh don’t act like that now. That’s not nearly as bad as what Gabriel did to me, isn’t that right?” Tishler’s voice manifested as his body leaned against your desk. His neck was open and bleeding down his chest, a wound cut into him deep with a scalpel that you never got the chance to do, mocking you almost.   

Your eyes forced themselves back to the pictures on your screens. His head was almost unrecognizable, destroyed from a building crashing down on it. His body was cut with the usual Y incision to check for internal damage, stitched back up and pinked around stitches, skin bruised and swollen, cut cleaned to show deep wounds down to the bone. The body of a dead man, of someone who lived through so much in his life, too much for just one person. 

The pictures of his body made you sick to your stomach, but not as sick as when you stared at them long enough to realize the body in them _wasn’t his_.

You twisted your brows down, leaning closer to the screens and zoomed in and out in disbelief. Whoever it was definitely had muscle, but was nowhere near your super soldier. The little sunspots, tiny freckles only you would know about, they were all missing completely. You glared at the blond hair, or what was left on it only to realize the hair was bleached to the wrong shade of glowing yellow.

Your hands were shaking. Something wasn’t right. His autopsy report was messy, hurried almost, written by someone who kept details of everything vague. The body had his dog tags, ones that hung just beneath his shirt usually, ones that you recognized as actually being his, but they weren't on the right body. The official cause of death was listed as blunt force head trauma, you swiped through pages back and forth studying every word. The report said his internal organs ruptured upon the impact, that he was immobilized, but something just wasn’t adding up.

“Maybe you didn't know him as well as you thought you did.” Tishler chuckled, spreading out his knees wide on the desk in the corner of your vision.

“This isn't him, I _know_ this isn't him.” If anyone were to see you, legs curled to your chest at the desk, nail tapping on your lip, they'd think you were mumbling to yourself like a lunatic.

You turned your head, standing just feet from you was Jack. Completely naked, with autopsy scars across his chest, limbs bruised and broken but your mind could picture _exactly_ what he should look like as a dead man and the person in the pictures wasn't that. This battered version of him leaned back against the wall, eyes watching you like they would when he would sit across from you at his desk and study the way you worked through data systems. He smiled, opening his mouth to speak, but Tishler's voice bellowed from him instead. 

"C'mon sweetheart, put those skills of yours to good use. Find out what really happened to me." 

You wanted to reach out and touch him, wanted to feel the warmth of his skin that you had missed so much, warmth that would comfort you even on your darkest nights. He nodded his head towards your computer, you knew you wouldn't feel anything if you touched him anyway, but it still took everything in you to turn back to the screens and work on digging further in files you knew you shouldn't have been anywhere near. It almost felt like you were holding your breath as you scrubbed through file after file. You searched and searched, only to be left sweating and at a standstill when you came to a proverbial brick wall. 

Everything to do with Morrison after his death, everything with Gabriel, anything to do with Blackwatch or Talon, all of it, was no longer in it's digital home. Instead, archives indicated with a simple message 'Available by paper request only'. You stared dumbfounded at the message. There was nothing on you at all in any file. Everything with Gabe had been cleaned out. After Morrison's autopsy report, all that was left were meeting notes taken from other agents and his enlistment documents. Someone had purposefully hid everything, someone was ensuring there was no way anyone could get this information without them knowing. You weren't going to stand for that. 

After eight months of hiding, you were going to come back swinging full force. No one takes away Jack Morrison from you and gets to cover their tracks with shitty doubles. No one was going to get between you and the closure you knew you deserved. 

"They're not going to just let you walk in and have that information." Tishler mused for you, pacing behind you. "You're going to have to break in. Possibly even _kill_ to get what you want."  

You looked back to your hallucination of Jack, still propped up against the wall looking at you with proud eyes. 

"He wouldn't want me to murder for something like this." Your voice was shaky. "I'm not going to slip like Gabe did, I'm going to do this the right way. Break in and hurt no one, they won't even know I'm there. I'll find out what happened to you Jack, I promise." 

* * *

The first step was figuring out which archive location held the paper documents. Unluckily for you, it appeared to be the base with the most security still. Petras had been slowly closing bases, the end of Overwatch was drawing near and it was obvious, but you knew it had to be big for them to keep such heavy details patrolling just one base. You mapped out your route, mapped out the best time of the night to sneak in, guessing at their shift changes and response times based on your own experience serving within the dying organization. 

Next was a disguise. All black, to blend in with the shadows- something you knew you picked up from Gabe but didn't want to admit to yourself. Combat pants just like you were used to with light boots so you could move but would be protected. You stashed Genji's knives away in the same pockets you always had at the side of your leg, happy to feel a familiar weight again. You protected your top with a movable bulletproof armored shirt, tucked into your combat pants and reaching to your wrists, all the way up to your jaw line for the most protection you could find available to you. Customized gloves now allowed you to create your hacking screen with hard light, something you too afraid to use with Overwatch after knowing their technology came from the same company that Talon's did. Finally, to hide your face and confuse any security cameras, a mask. 

In the orange sunset, you sat near the window of a shitty hotel near the guarded watchpoint, moving the mask in your hands as sunbeams glittered across the room. It was completely featureless, a smooth curve from the forehead to the chin, but it was made of dozens of reflective pieces, almost as if it was glued together with the shards of a broken mirror. To avoid unintentional catches of light you could hide the mask under a weighted oversized hood and see inside the mask using secondary cameras on your shoulders, but when you were ready, you wanted them to see the flashes of light as you shined back against security cameras, quick flashes like lightening striking the ground as you moved. 

Even though the base was guarded, the agents were lazy. Moral took a huge hit when HQ exploded, those left either stuck on contracts or sticking by their duties could see the public didn't want Overwatch anymore. They knew they were on a slowly sinking ship and it showed. Agents joked around in the backs of buildings, smoking and ignoring their assigned duties. A group was playing a card game with their helmets off and goofing around with each other. Jack would have hated this. He wold have hated to see how lax things had become. You were sure these agents didn't even know they were supposed to be protecting something with such significance, otherwise they would have been on higher alert as you shimmied your way through the gate at the edge of the base. 

"It would be much easier, and quicker, to just kill everyone instead of sneaking around." Tishler reminded you as you crouched behind an overlook, patiently waiting for a guard to turn his back. 

"Commander Morrison wouldn't mind just one person dead, would he?" He whispered as you snuck through dark halls with your heart racing against every step. 

"It sure would make Commander Reyes proud of you. Don't you remember the way he looked at you after you killed my agents?" You tried to shake his voice as your hands shook through filing cabinets, fingering through more documents than you'd ever dreamed of. Footsteps and voices were coming near. You knew coming in you'd only have a limited amount of time to get what you needed to, but it was cut shorter than that when two agents came spilling into the room, giggling and kissing each other as parts of their uniforms were stripping off.

Your whole body blushed. They were so carefree, they didn't know you were there, hiding behind rows of tall metal filings holding papers with Jack's truth written across them. They didn't care this was a place for protecting secrets, holding thousands of names of dead agents, all they cared about was pulling each other's pants off as quickly as possible and you slipped back into the shadows unnoticed and for the first time in a long time, almost on the verge of laughing. The security here was so much worse than you could have ever imagined. You supposed it had a lot to do with not caring for the job anymore, but it hurt your heart knowing that Jack's legacy, everything he built up in the organization was slowly crumbling without the structured and respected authority figures who fell with Overwatch when buildings came down.   

You wanted to actually laugh out loud. You thought this was going to be your big heroic moment, sneaking in and taking information like some sort of super spy, feeling cool just as you had all those times on combat missions before, but this was just pathetic. All this effort into plans and masks, and in all honestly, it felt like you could have really just waltzed right in, taken what you wanted and left with two middle fingers high in the air. You clutched the documents you managed to snag close to your chest, running through the shadows all the way back to a hotel room you called temporary home. 

Mask thrown to the bed, hair a ratty mess beneath, you spread out the documents across the sheets separating them out. Most of the files you took ended up being your own. Complaints and write ups about behavior, directors notes about your relationship with Jack, your interview after the explosion, your original contract with full disclosure on the mines, almost all of it had blacked out your name. Blackwatch and Talon documents detailed missions and previous agents who had died in combat, another report indicated all the known contact and addresses of Blackwatch agents who lived through the HQ explosion. Gabe's papers all had giant red stamps, 'VOID', they read over his enlistment documents, his confession of what he'd done. 

Then, Jack. Oddly enough there were not a lot of documents on him. There were more pages to the autopsy, pages that almost looked like drafts with notes written in dark ink in the margins, pen lines crossing things out. Nothing was adding up, some of the things on the draft reports were completely different from the final report you found in the files. The types of injuries, the cause of death, it was as if they were creating their own twisted version of events. You flipped through the pages, staring at the last document to move through the archives with his name. An internal memo, sent between the head of medical and the directors the day before it was announced to the world Jack Morrison was dead. 

 **FROM:**  angela_ziegler@med.overwatch.org  
**TO:** OVW Offical Board of Directors Mailing List   
**SUBJECT:** Official resignation   
As previously mentioned I do not have any further updates regarding Commander Morrison and I will not be compliant in this any longer. I am not comfortable with the continued threats and pressure I am being put under to keep silent about this.  
At this time I believe it would be best for both parties to quietly part. For the sake of my sanity and my safety, please regard this as my official leave from Overwatch as head of the medical division. I will not be returning to work and ask that I am not contacted any further by any of you or the legal division of Overwatch any longer.     
\- A Ziegler, M.D.  

You stared at the message, dumbfounded. Thoughts raced through your head faster than your heartbeat in your veins. She knows something. Something happened to Morrison and it was bad enough to try to keep her quiet about it. Your mouth felt dry, hand sweating into the white paper crushing in your palms. 

"Well, now. That's certainly interesting." Tishler's voice mocked you. "We know one person who's probably still in contact with the good doctor, maybe it's time we anwser his call." 

* * *

Back on the farm you spent days searching for any sign of Dr. Ziegler. You scoured for any articles about her work, and research papers being published, searched the names of doctors leaving for missions trips to far corners of the globe and still came up empty handed. Every time your phone rang it would force your heart to jump to your throat, you'd lunge for it across rooms, bring it close to your face to stare at the number. Every time your pulse would drop when you realized it was anyone but the one person who you wanted to talk to, the one person you wanted information from. You could call him. You had the ability to, but Tishler would hold your wrist, tightening it until you thought your fingers would fall off preventing you from reaching out on your own. 

While you were searching for information on her, the news broke Overwatch was officially disbanding. All security would be handed over to third parties, mostly to Helix Security. You rolled your lips between your teeth, doubting that you would be able to sneak into any Overwatch bases again any time soon. From everything you read they kept their standards just at, or maybe even a little higher than Overwatch's when they were operating under a strict commander in blue. After Doomfist's manifesto was found by Helix security, they heightened everything, taking their level of protection to something almost unseen by a non-military force. That made you nervous. Everything hinged on talking to Dr. Ziegler, so you waited to hear from someone who you knew was close to her. You waited and waited for weeks until-

“Hello?” Your voice shook as you answered, nervousness salting the tip of your tongue knowing you should have answered his calls so much sooner.  

The voice on the end sputtered out your name before you stopped yourself from letting out a nervous chuckle. 

“I-is it really you?” Genji’s voice sounded gentler than usual.

“Hi, Genji. It’s nice to hear you.” You sank into the couch in the living room, smiling to yourself and hiding Tishler’s presence in the corners of your vision. Genji’s voice was so clear, so obviously _real_ and you hadn't anticipated how much that would make you smile.

“How have you been since…?”

“Not great.” You breathed out. “Physically, I was perfectly fine, but it’s been a lot to deal with. I should have reached out a lot sooner, I’m sorry Genji. I didn’t mean to go radio silent, but I just needed time to process everything.”

“Not a day has gone by that I have not thought of you. No one has been able to reach you and I, we, have been very worried about how you've been handling everything." He spoke softly, you could hear the shifting of two people on the other end of the call.

"We?" You asked, hoping not to set off any alarm bells. He would be suspicious if you suddenly jumped into asking what Dr. Ziegler knew.

"Everyone." Genji almost sounded as if he was going to cry, his voice broke when he spoke. "Jesse, he is- he does not understand why you will not speak to anyone. Winston has not heard from you, either. You do not have to go through this alone! We lost people too, I may have left Overwatch before it happened, but I am always here for you and you are still my family." He stayed quiet for a moment as his breathing lingered on the other end. He was waiting for a response but you knew you didn't have one, not one that he would accept. "Angela told me about Commander Reyes's confession." 

Fuck, this was exactly why you didn't want to answer his calls. You weren't ready to talk about this. 

"He deserved to die by my blade for doing that to you. His death was too easy for someone so willing to-"

"Please, Genji." You choked out. "There's so much more to it than what you heard. He's not- he wasn't... there's actually something I need to talk to Dr. Ziegler about, is she there with you?" 

"I wish you would talk to me about it." His voice was firmer now, a hint of anger somewhere deep in his tone. "Whatever he had over you, the things he did are unforgivable. I regret every day not intervening that day him and _the scientist_ came to your hospital room. I could have saved you then." 

"I didn't need saving, Genji." Your eyes looked up and across from you was vision Jack, decked out in his commanders jacket, smirk on his face and love in his eyes. His shirt was slowly bleeding out from a Y shaped cut down his chest and through to his bellybutton. You watched in horror as he sighed silently and gave you bedroom eyes. Your heart twisted. "Please, please just put Dr. Ziegler on the phone." 

You heard a grunt and murmured conversation before she hesitantly greeted you. 

"Is this a medical question?" 

"Don't bullshit me." You growled into the phone. "You need to tell me exactly what happened to him. I need to know what happened to Jack." 

"I'm..." She cleared her throat and it almost sounded like she was whispering. "I'm not sure what you mean." 

"I saw the autopsy report, I _know_ you're smarter than that. Please, I can't fucking breathe not knowing what happened to him. Why was everything fake-"

"I think, perhaps, it is best if we speak about this in person?" She blurted out. "I am not authorized to give _medical advise_ over the phone, and this really sounds like something I should diagnose face to face, yes?"  

You processed in silence for a moment, partially wondering if she was misunderstanding you before it clicked that she was either hiding something from someone. 

"Right, okay. Message me your next opening then please. This is urgent." 

"I understand."  Her voice faded as Genji's came back.

"Is everything alright? Are you hurt?" 

"Nothing serious, just some after effects from the explosions." You lied through your teeth and felt disgusting. Jack gave you a disapproving look. "I'm sure Dr. Ziegler can fix it." 

"She's a doctor, not a magician, pet. She can't heal a broken heart, even if she has the answers." Tishler's voice behind your head drowned out whatever it was Genji said to you and you closed your eyes tightly trying to will him away. "What do we think? Let's take some bets. My money's on her being part of a conspiracy to kill him all along-"

"Are you still there?" Genji snapped you out of the feeling of Tishler's hands curling around your shoulders. 

"I am. Sorry, Genji. I need to go, I'll call you again another time okay? Maybe we can even meet up when I come to visit Dr. Ziegler."

"That will not be possible. I am leaving in two days for Nepal and I do not know when I will be back."

"Oh." Was all you could manage to say, unable to hide the bitter disappointment. You had no right to feel hurt by that, after all you had been MIA for almost a year. There was no telling what he was going through in that time, or where his life was being led. "Another time, then." 

"Take care of yourself."

"You too, Genji." 

* * *

You had a week before you would be flying out to meet Dr. Ziegler as she worked under her combat medic pseudonym. She was helping aid small villages ripped apart by war, and you guessed she wanted you to meet her there so there was no chance of anyone from Overwatch overhearing. You tried to calm your nerves, tried not to listen to Tishler's conspiracy theories babbling off in your ear for days. You kept yourself busy with the house, prepping it for being away, and it was while you were clearing out old food in the fridge that you happened upon a package that arrived just after you first come to the farm. 

It was plain, stashed away in the back with a message to keep refrigerated and just from the way you held it you knew there were vials of something beneath the bubble wrapped packaging. You carefully opened it, sliding out the contents into your palms and flipping them over and over in your hands. Plastic vials and thin needles packaged neatly with numbing gel and gloves. You sucked in your cheeks, shaking your head as you turned the familiar serum through your fingers. A note was stapled to the edge, but you didn't have to read it to know exactly what Moira had sent you all those months ago. 

_'A temporary solution to permanent pain. I am always available to you, should you need anyone. Please come see me if you experience anything else unusual, I will fix you. I promise. -MO'_

She sent you three doses of her serum to make you numb. You caught your breath, tempted to inject it straight into your veins now just so you would cry at your last memory of her rushing you out of Talon headquarters. Behind the note was a business card, her name and the address for a university listing her as their resident geneticist. You smiled to yourself, thankful she at least found something that wasn't Talon- or so you hoped. Her new job wasn't far from where you would be meeting Dr. Ziegler, maybe an hour plane ride away, you could go say hello or... you had a better idea. 

Your head snapped up, eyes focusing on Tishler standing across from you in the empty room. His face darkened, eyes lowering to a hateful glare. Moira was able to ease some of Gabe's symptoms, may she could fix yours-  

"She could never get rid of me." Tishler's vision mocked you. You blinked and he was replaced with Morrison, leaning towards you with those damn gray sweatpants of his and a damn smirk on his face. He opened his mouth and Tishler's voice came out. "Would you really want her to stop you from seeing _your commander?"_

Your heart was racing, beating in your chest like a war drum. You'd accepted these hallucinations, wallowed in them, let them pull you down into a darkness that felt endless, but you hadn't slipped completely. Moira could help you. Moira was your friend and she would know what to do, but just in case Reaper was around, you knew you'd need to go to her without setting off any warning bells. You packed your bags that night. Tishler's strong hands tried to stop you, tried to rip you away from folding your clothes neatly the way Jack would have wanted you to, but you swallowed his vile words and drowned him out with piano music blaring from your phone.

It was a long night leading to a long sleepless flight, but you were wake and driven by the thought of being able to rid of the voice in your head. 

Now on a mission for real self improvement, you dressed as incognito as you could, hiding your scars and the endless stare in your eyes under a hooded sweatshirt and casual clothes to fit in with the university crowd as you slipped into a lab on the far end of campus, passing through secured doors with easy hacking jobs. The lab was dark, overhead lights off and only computer screens left on dimly lighting the room. Fingertips dragged along sleek counter tops as you walked through as quietly as possible. Eyes scanning everything they could for any signs of movements in the shadows. You checked the clock every few seconds, nervous that maybe this was all just a rouse and you'd turn to face burning red eyes and hands at your throat. 

Always timely, the lab doors opened right at 9am and the soft thud of rubber soled shoes echoed through the room before lights buzzed to life, revealing you standing in front of Moira’s station. Footsteps made their way to you, a bag fell to the floor next to your feet and long nails grazed against the skin of your cheek as Moira turned your face to look to her.

“You are not looking well, my friend.” Her voice had sympathy, but her face remained as stoic as ever.

“I’m not doing well.” You tugged at the ends of your sleeves and shifted on your feet unsure where to even begin.

She pushed your hood back, nails combing through your hair as she grazed across your head, eyes examining your face and smoothing out your hair in the back. You let her move your head side to side, stood completely still as she pried open your lids to get a good look at your eyes, she was treating you like a test animal but you didn’t really care if this was what it took to get rid of Tishler.  

“She’s going to experiment on you just like she did to Gabe.” Tishler hissed, hopping up to sit on a nearby counter. “Maybe you’ll end up batshit insane, just like him.” God, his smile was going to make you sick. You hadn’t even noticed her fingers were pressed against a vein on your throat taking your pulse and she gave you a look of confusion and concern as she pulled at the collar of your sweatshirt to look at your neck. “Do you think she knows Gabriel is still alive?” He was behind you now, voice pressing against your ear and you jerked your head to the side away from it.

"I need your help, Moira." You finally sighed out with watering eyes. "I'm hearing things, seeing things, that aren't there. I don't know what to do."

"What are you seeing?" She turned from you, hurrying to lock the lab doors behind her so no one would intrude. 

"Tishler, mostly." You watched as she began rummaging through cabinets under her desk, pushing loose hairs back away from her face. "Sometimes, Jack, but..." 

"Gabriel spoke of having hallucinations when he was first in the program, I think I still have the samples I made in case that symptom ever resurfaced." She mumbled to herself as she continued her search. "Many of the soldiers did during the enchantment program, if I remember correctly.  Luckily, that is one of the easier side effects to deal with as it's simply altering a chemical release. Ah- yes, here we are. I can either give you these to take over the next seven days-" She held out a bottle and a vial in her hand. "Or, one injection. Up to you." 

"There's always a side effect. What is it with these?" You pointed to her hand holding out the cures to ridding Tishler from your mind. 

"With either you will experience heightened hallucinations. The pills take longer but are less intense, with the shot it would likely be a couple hours but from my understanding what you see could be very intense. If you would prefer to get this over with quickly, I could lace this with serotonin to make the hallucinations at least a little more pleasant."  

“Is that what you did last time you tested on me?” You asked quietly, thinking back to sitting in that chair in the corner of her lab with visions of Jack and Gabe. Your heart hurt. At least in those hallucinations Jack _spoke_ to you. You’d give anything in the world to just hear his voice again.

“Precisely. I would be here the whole time monitoring you, should anything become too much I can sedate you but I would prefer not to as there is a danger in losing consciousness while under the effect of this.”  

“I don't care, let’s go for it.” You crossed your arms over your body, removing the incognito sweatshirt and pulling it from you then throwing it to the ground. You gave her a look of defeat and Moira grazed the backs of her fingers along the side of your face brushing hair away before falling to your arm and examining the inside of your arm. You sat on a hard stool next to her desk, leaned heavy against it as you stared intently into Tishler's burning eyes. A wound at his neck was slowly opening, blood seeping down his throat beneath an ugly scowl. 

Moira flicked at your veins while she readied the vial with a dark purple liquid shimmering beneath plastic, eyes reading across your face carefully.

“Have you had any… other symptoms?” A small cotton pad rubbed against your arm, numbing the skin.

“I haven’t burst into smoke, if that’s what you’re asking.” You watched her ready the needle, patiently waiting with it hovering above your skin until your eyes met hers and she slowly slid it into your vein. Her mismatched eyes flickered from the plunger to you until her thumb had pushed everything in, you took a deep shaky breath before she slid it out of your arm and held a clean cotton ball over the area. Her expression changed, not by much, but you could see the smile resemblance of relief. 

“My guess is these hallucinations are a side effect to the SEP enhancements from Gabriel's blood after being... tortured by that _animal_. I think perhaps you would have lived a semi normal life if Tishler hadn't pushed you past your limits. But, you're strong. You've always been strong.” She looked to you from the side of her eyes and you were nervously chewing your lip as she leaned forwards towards you still leaving no personal space. Your head was starting to feel light, but you were getting lost in her gaze. "It's okay. I'm right here. Whatever you see can't hurt you, I'll keep you safe." 

It almost seemed like the lights in the room went out and you could only focus on Moira. Your mind wasn't even comprehending what she was saying to you, not even sure if the last thing she said was real or a comfort you put in her mouth to ease yourself into this. You were dizzy, but focused, mind telling you to give in to Tishler's nagging slowly becoming louder as it creeped from the base of your spine up into your skull. In the darkness behind Moira, your mind was creating visions you couldn't look away from. Moira's body blurred into the foreground, as Not-Really-There-Jack sat across from you in the same metal chair Arntz was when you were being held by Talon. Jack was down to his ratty old boxer briefs, half hard and smirking at you with his wrists restrained to the chair. He was bloody. Bleeding the same way Gabe was when you found him after Overwatch fell, bright red blood pouring down all over his body from his head, matting his hair and covering his smile.

Your hands were shaking. This wasn’t real, you knew this wasn’t real, but that didn’t stop your heart from racing. You forced your eyes to look down, circling the white and black diamond band at your ring finger in fidgeting nervousness. You felt the confused stare from Moira who had leaned back, examining your reaction to hallucinations she couldn't see. 

“It’s a shame Jack Morrison never really knew what you were _really_ capable of.” Tishler’s voice curled around you like smoke. “Do you think you can make him proud when you were so ready to kill me with your own hands?”

When you looked up you were met with a clone of yourself staring back at you, endless black eyes staring off into the distance behind an unforgiving face. You gasped at the new horrifying sight. 

“Look at you. He wouldn’t love a monster.” Tishler’s hands fell to the sides of your arms, holding you against the chair as you watched Black-Eyed-You slink to Not-Really-There-Jack. He smiled when you reached him, blood pouring into his mouth but his head leaned back to accept a kiss from your double. “You were just his obedient toy, weren’t you? A plaything that got your hands dirty behind his back.” Tishler’s whisper was raspy against your eardrum.

Your double dropped to her knees between Jack's open legs, hands sliding up his thighs like yours had so many times before after nights when all he needed was a way to relieve the stress of a long work day. You watched yourself pull him from his underwear, watched as his head dropped back in eye fluttering pleasure and his mouth opened but still you heard no noise from him.

You missed him, so much. Your body missed him, craved the touch of his duty calloused hands and the way he'd run his fingers over scars he told you were beautiful. You wanted to cry, but you also shifted in your seat and felt an unmistakable ache between your legs that you hadn't felt in months. You hadn’t even had the thought to touch yourself since everything blew up and now months worth of feelings, pleasure and desire, were confronting you in the worst possible way at the worst possible time. Hallucination Tishler was sliding extra large hands along the insides of your closed thighs, teasing over places you’d never want to think of him being mixing your blushing body with a churning stomach.

“You can’t be here.” You heard Moira softly, voice facing away from you as her hands left your arm.

“I have to-” A voice you didn’t recognize, deep and filtered through something.

“Ah-ah.” Tishler’s voice tsked, imaginary fingers touched you between your thighs while others lifted your chin back to the sight of your endless eyed double bobbing her head between Jack's legs, one hand clawing at his bare chest. “No need to pay attention to that, let’s focus on what you really want.”

You felt like you were on fire, sweating like you never had. You felt like you needed to wipe away sweat from your forehead but your hands were too heavy. Your head felt too heavy on your neck but it wouldn’t drop, Tishler was keeping your chin upright and your eyes on the silent scene in front of you. Jack lifted his hands, wrist restraints popping off the metal chair with ease so he could run fingers through your doubles hair, combing it back until he was holding it loosely in a ponytail that he would pull with each bob of your head in his lap. You think you were blushing from your cheeks to your neck. All you wanted was to hear his moan, a breath even, anything that would resemble him, you were dying to hear even a single noise leave the vision of a man. You wanted to be the one pleasuring him, you wanted to be running fingers over a chest with slowly graying hairs. 

More Jacks crept into your vision. Jack half dead and limping with Genji's cyborg Blackwatch enchantments. Jack in a black cowboy hat and a big gaudy belt sauntering around you with a trail of cigar smoke. Jack in a talon uniform, Jack in a dark green sweatshirt and a black beanie, Jack in his formal blues, Jack, Jack, Jack everywhere you looked.  

From the shadows a figure appeared behind Jack, clad in all black and sporting a familiar mask, you groaned and your head dropped to the back of the chair wishing not to see this distorted version of Reaper. You could almost feel the ground beneath you shaking as he stepped towards you, could almost feel his presence as he dropped to a knee in front of your seat, could almost feel the way his gloved hands felt as they landed against the tops of your thighs. But you knew better, you told yourself what you knew, you told yourself this wasn’t real.

Jack was smiling, throwing an arm over his face how he did sometimes when he was too lost in the moment. He pulled hard on your doubles hair, hard enough for you to feel it in your own, and she kissed him as she crawled into his lap. You watched in jealous horror as she bounced onto him, hearing your own moans and gasps as Jack's hands wandered over her body squeezing everywhere you wished he touch you. The other Jacks converged around them, hands roaming across your doubles body as she rolled against their touches. The mix of emotions was too much. You wanted to cry, you wanted Tishler's fingers to leave from teasing between your legs as you watched them, you wanted the clawed hand touching your cheeks to release you, and most of all, you didn't want to be looking at Reaper's mask focusing in on your vision. 

“Put me out, Moira!” You managed to cry out as tears fell from your cheeks. You didn’t want this. You didn’t want Reaper to be any part of this. You couldn’t hear Jack, Tishler’s hands were all over you, and now Reaper was kneeling at your feet touching your face and being gentle with you. You didn’t want _any_ of this. “Put me out!” You screamed through a numbing rush of heat, closing your eyes as tightly as you could pushing more tears from burning eyes. 

Clawed gloves dropped from your face to your hands folded in your lap and carefully wrapped around your fingers and it felt all too real. Sobs caught in your chest, tears dropping onto jeans. You didn’t want to feel this. Out, you wanted _out_. 

Cold fingers curled around your arm, then a pinch, and in moments your mind was fading. 

"It's okay." Her voice was gentle, too gentle, you were sure your mind was making it up. 

You snapped open your eyes just before you drifted off, watching as Reaper removed his mask. His face was covered with thick black smoke, obscuring his features but glowing red eyes pointed at you through the dark. Your body slumped forward, giving out in exhaustion.

"You're safe. It's just a hallucination." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (つ ͡ꈍ ͜ʖ̫ ͡ꈍ )つ we're getting closer to getting our boy back~~~ <3


	39. Trust

When you came to after being put in a drug induced sleep you were wrapped in Moira's fitted lab coat, hunched in on yourself with a saline drip in your arm. The room felt like it was spinning but you tried to lift your heavy head to look at her. 

“How are you feeling?” Her blurred face was sharpening in your vision, voice sounding impossibly distant.

Mind groggy, mouth dry, and head pounding, you took a few moments to orient yourself before trying to speak.  

“My head hurts.” You cleared a sore throat and shifted around. The skylights above that once were filled with soft morning sunlight were now dark. Moira, always a creature of habit, had already undone her tie and top few buttons and was leaning forward in a way that was making you avert your eyes from exposed skin and hide burning cheeks behind your hand as you rubbed the grease of sleep from your face. Visions of your hallucinations still lingered in the back of your mind and you felt a rush of embarrassment wondering how much of a fool you must have looked during them.

“Do not move too quickly, take your time." She held out long nailed hands and your arm twitched as you lifted an elbow in her palms, waiting on her to remove the needle keeping you hydrated. "Have a look around the room, are you still seeing things?”

The gravity of the world was coming back to you, for the first time in what felt like an actual lifetime, you woke without Tishler's voice mocking Jesse's greetings. No man, no voice, for once your mind was quiet and you could think clearly. You took in big shaky gasps leading to a nervous smile slipping between them as you leaned forward on the edge of your seat and crashed your head against her shoulder, burying your face against the collar of her open shirt.

"They're gone. It's quiet." Your voice was soft but had a breathlessness of genuine shock. Part of you still worried Tishler would suddenly appear curling around the sides of your vision, but the feeling that he used to hold creeping into your mind was now empty. Moira paused, carefully petting the back of your head, smoothing out tangled hair and you leaned harder into her realizing just how long it had been since you'd had any form of meaningful physical contact. It felt good to be against someone warm, someone real. You wanted to hug her, but you restrained yourself knowing she was not the lovey-dovey type, just her small strokes on your hair was more than enough to give you the comfort you'd yearned for over the course of lonely months. “Thank you, Moira. If there's anything I can do to repay you, please let me know.” 

You stretched out your arms rolling out sore muscles and her lab coat slipped from your shoulders to the floor along with  _something else_. Down the skin of your arms and slipping from your back, a trailing feeling of barely there fibers like loose hairs fell to the ground. Your skin tingled with goosebumps, a small shiver riding up your spine and you turned to look behind you, expecting to see the looming figure of a man you no longer really knew, but instead found the room was stilled. No moving shadows, no frightening white masks, nothing but your imagination playing tricks on you. You caught yourself feeling almost disappointed.   

“If you're offering, I have had a thorn in my side for some time now that I believe you may be able to help me with." 

"By help, what do you mean?" You leaned back on the seat, shaking off the familiar feeling and focusing instead on how you were now feeling better than you had in months. A proverbial weight lifted from your shoulders that made you feel lighter than you had since buildings came crashing down.  

"I have reason to believe mercenaries will attack one of our transports going after my work on the enhanced super soldier serum next week. I'd appreciate a little extra security, and if possible, some help figuring out who exactly has taken such an interest in my work.” She swung her long legs to the side and pushed herself up to stand tall above you. 

A mission. A purpose. Something to distract you while you worked on figuring out what happened to Jack's body. Of course, your stomach flipped at the thought of working for someone who you knew was a part of Talon, for something you had no doubts was only going to aid the terrorist organization. You chewed at the corner of your lip, she seemed to notice your worry.

"This super solider serum, is Talon using it on their own people?"

"I'm sending these samples to be destroyed. With Tishler gone I have taken his place as head of the medical division in Talon and my plans are more... tame. I know you think of my work as morally questionable, but I am not a monster. These samples tested on strings of genetic codes have been unstable."

"That didn't answer my question, Moira." You dug nails into your knees. 

"Once it is perfected, yes. Talon will use it on their agents." 

"I don't want any part in protecting anything Talon does." Your voice was wavering, you didn't want anything to do with Talon, but since it was _Moira_ asking. At the very least she was honest about what it was you were protecting. She gave you a halfhearted apologetic look and extended hands to help you from your seat and checked your pulse with fingers at your neck as you steadied yourself on your feet. "This would only be a one time thing." You said low as your eyes fell to her veiny dying hand.  

"I appreciate it." She seemed satisfied with your pulse and dropped her arm back to her side.

"Your hand is getting worse." You looked her in the eyes waiting for a reaction, she seemed almost surprised that you even noticed. Years ago upon first meeting her the purple dead nerves started at her fingertips, ones she quietly pretended you were ignoring. Since then you'd watched the veins spread down past her elbow. "Are you still experimenting on yourself?"

"Only when necessary." Her voice was cold. You followed her to the back of the lab, rubbing at the sides of your arms and searching the shadows in the corners of the room. You felt it, you felt eyes watching. You couldn't explain it and you couldn't see him, but deep in your gut you knew he was there, and instead of panicking like you thought you would, you just felt a deep aching sadness. You still wanted to help.   

"If you need someone to test on, I-"

"Absolutely not." She cut you off, speaking over her shoulder. "You know you are always welcome to visit me as a friend or if you feel any other side effects, please, come to me immediately. My intervening as done enough, I do not want you to end up like our mutual friend." 

You dug a thumbnail into the side of your arm. Perhaps unintentionally, or purposefully vaguely that slip told you she knew he was still alive- or more so, Reaper was still alive. Moira seemed to still for a moment, a pause to think before prying open a heavy lab door and leading you in to show you the information on the mission she had for you. Before closing her office door, you turned to look back into the lab scanning the ground one last time for any signs of the man you thought you hallucinated. 

* * *

After gathering all the intel you could with Moira you packed away your things and set out for meeting Dr. Ziegler. Stashed away in your bag was your mask and new combat outfit, just in case, but you wore plain clothes with your hood up to find her in a camp housing injured civilians on the outskirts of a war damaged city. You were getting tired to looking at bombed landscapes, at rows of white sheets hiding bodies on the side of the road as an armored vehicle drove you and a small group of volunteers to the site. To avoid looking at the devastation any longer you pulled out your phone, scrolling through the typical checks you did every time. First, the call to a mission to infiltrate Talon.

Your heart beat into your throat. Eyes flickered to others in the car as you caught your breath realizing you had a response. 

 **S:** looks like someone else is as curious about talon as I am.

 **S:** are you for real when you say you have a way in? 

Your fingers shook as you tapped out a response, slying adjusting your body so no prying eyes could see. 

Definitely. Floor plans, guard rotations, access codes, I can get you whatever you need but you have to prove yourself first. **:L**

 **S:** why wouldnt you just do this yourself if you have everything? 

I'm too involved with people who are high up in Talon's ranks. Going in myself is guaranteeing a death sentence. If you're going to do this, you'll need to prove yourself. **:L**  

 **S:** im up for a challenge. 

If you're as good as you think you are then you can figure out who I am. Your mission is to retrieve evidence being held at a heavily guarded Overwatch facility. Send me the dog tags for Strike Commander Jack Morrison and Blackwatch Commander Gabriel Reyes. They're currently under heightened security as material evidence for an open investigation. If you can get those and send them to me we can discuss payment and logistics in person. **:L**

 **S:** just dog tags? i could hack into overwatch and get you anything 

 **S:** why the identification of those two? 

If I don't hear back from you I'll assume you've failed. **:L**  

"Sorry for the bumpy ride everyone, we're here." The driver turned in his seat to look back into the passengers of the car and you snapped your phone into your bag. One volunteer looked like she was going to be sick- she must not be used to old fashioned cars on wheels, but there wasn't much choice for luxury in remote countries like this one. Most people stumbled from the car, circling bags onto their backs before splitting away in the camp to find assigned stations. You set off to the main medical tent poking your head in expecting to see a familiar face. 

"I'm looking for Dr. Ziegler?" You finally asked an exhausted nurse who was scrubbing thick black fluid from her nails. 

"Umm...?" She raised an eyebrow at you before you heard your name being called from across the dirt. 

Dr. Ziegler stood at the opening of a small canvas tent, hair high in a dirty ponytail and dressed in clothes that looked more like an archaeologist digging into the earth than a doctor saving lives. She ushered you in to the tiny space, inside was a glorified camping setup and no where near as glamorous as her office back on base used to be. 

“Please, while we’re here call me Mercy.” She tucked loose hairs behind her ear and smiled at you but you could see right through her. She looked like she'd been weathered down, she had the same look on her face you used to have on yours when you were trying to hide your secrets from Jack. The same dull look in her eyes. 

“Why are you operating under your combat medic name?”

“The Overwatch legal team has threatened to take away my credentials because I wouldn’t be compliant with their schemes. Without Genji to protect me now, I'm trying to make it at least a little more difficult to track me down so they don't keep threatening me." She sighed, pulling her hair out before smoothing it back into a tight bun. "There is so much you don’t know, please have a seat. This might take a while.”

She pulled out a small foldable chair for you, the air dirtying with dust as you slid into it across from her at a tiny table then offered you a little white cup smaller than your palms of water- a luxury it seemed in this place.

“Genji was very fond of you.” She said under her breath. “I am sorry I never made more of an effort to… understand you.”

“Don’t worry about that now.” You moved your hands away from the cup, beneath the table to spin the ring at your finger. “How is Genji?”

“Not well.” She looked embarrassed, cheeks pinking and eyes avoiding yours. “He still struggles with the cybernetic parts of himself. After he left Overwatch he was very angry and often would disappear for days at time. After the explosion he-” She shifted, eyes looking into the distance seemingly past the walls of the tent as if she could see him standing in front of her. “I think I need to start from the beginning, from when HQ fell.”

You sighed with a small nod, bringing your hand to your mouth to cover your already quivering lip.

"My team was already on site that morning, we were supposed to be checking in on Commander Reyes after the altercation him and Commander Morrison got into. When the bombs went off we were outside, but most of us managed to avoid any injuries other than minor cuts and bruises. As soon as we realized what had happened we immediately began to triage. Their building was only partially destroyed, and we found each of them carrying agents out. Commander Morrison was... I'm sorry, I don't know if you want to hear this."

"I do. Please. I need to know." 

"Commander Morrison, and Commander Reyes, they were both bleeding profusely from their heads. But Morrison, he was in terrible condition. One of his arms was clearly broken, limp at his side and the bone was sticking out I still don't understand how he was able to stay conscious through the pain. They ran back inside when the rest of the building collapsed and it was-" Her voice was shaky, clearly on the verge of tears but she was trying her damnedest to keep this professional. "We knew there was no way either of them could have lived through it. My team was able to dig to them but they were- it- it was obvious to everyone there was no chance either of them would make it but no one wanted to say it so I told them to get Commander Morrison out first. We were gone maybe five minutes but when we came back- I still can't explain it. Commander Reyes was missing, absolutely no trace of him." 

You leaned heavy into your hand, hoping your eyes wouldn't give away that you already knew that. 

"I'm so sorry. We tried to save Commander Morrison, we really did. He'd lost so much blood already there was just- if he had just listened to us and not gone back in to save more people..." 

"If he died, then why is Overwatch threatening you? You couldn't have done anything else in such an extreme situation." 

"After we put his body in the temporary morgue-" She lifted her head, eyes to the ceiling in a feeble attempt at drying them. "He went missing. His body disappeared over night."

_"What?"_

"I know. It sounds insane. Overwatch directors, investigators, lawyers, I was questioned for days on end. I truly have no idea what happened to him, I hope you believe me. I personally saw to it his body was being preserved in a highly secured section of the building but- I don't know. I think Talon, or some other organization intent on unraveling the secrets to the military's SEP program took him. That is the only logical explanation I can begin to think of. That was the only explanation I could offer the directors, and they refused to let the news of something like two Overwatch commander's bodies going missing."

"So Jack-" You sucked in a sharp breath. "My Jack is out there right now being studied by who knows what for god knows what reason because no one kept a fucking eye on him?" 

"We were doing the best we could with the limited resources we had. I'm so sorry." 

"So the autopsy report? The pictures? I don't understand-" 

"Director Petras thought it would be best if we continued on as if we did have their bodies, he was terrified of the media finding out and shedding even more bad light on Overwatch. They- he- he forced me to personally fake the reports and pictures with agents who we just listed as dead but unrecognizable. They threatened to take away my licence if I didn't comply, those lawyers showed me how easy it would be for them. They threatened to take away my research grants for improving Genji's cybernetics, ones that he needs to continue _living_. I didn't know what else to do. All of my work, my entire life was in Overwatch and they were going to take everything away if I didn't do what they wanted."

"They can't keep getting away with this shit." You whispered in anger. 

"I ended up leaving suddenly when Genji convinced me I was no longer safe there. I told them I was going to tell everyone the truth and they starting putting details on me, watching every move I made. He was convinced they had done something to you too, since you stopped responding to everyone and no one knew where you were. They you didn't appear at the funeral and... he seems to think Commander Reyes somehow lived through the explosion and had something to do with Morrison going missing. After he found out- after I told him about what Reyes confessed to doing to you, Genji wasn't- he wasn't doing okay." 

"Shit." You breathed out. "I know I should have called him back sooner, I just haven't been in a good enough place to deal with everything still."   

"He would go missing for days tracking your last known locations. He wouldn't tell me, but I know he tried to get into Talon headquarters at one point too. It's been... a very difficult time for us, but I imagine it has been for you as well. I am sorry to make you come all the way out here just to hear that I don't know for sure what happened to Commander Morrison. I really do wish I had more information." 

You sighed, leaning back in your seat and holding fingers tightly to your mouth. She was terrified. Of what happened to her, of what the truth could actually be, of losing Genji, but at least she was still here living out a purpose she believed in, which was more than you could boast for the last few months. The water in the tiny paper cup sitting in front of you had gone warm from the humid tent. You both stopped talking altogether and stared at points on the small table with deep sadness in your eyes. 

"I appreciate you telling me all this Mercy, I really do." Your leg was bouncing in nervousness. "Even if it wasn't what I wanted to hear." 

You ended up staying the night in the camp. You walked with her while she did her rounds on injured patients and watched as she listened to their stories of heartache. Something about it all seemed to hollow to you. After taking lives, after seeing a human body so mangled from a shotgun on a white tiled floor, a skull split open on a commander with glowing eyes, something about the gentle interactions with people suffering minor wounds seemed empty. She tried to keep a polite conversation with you through a military meal dinner, tried to hold eye contact with you across the table but you felt lost. 

All you could think about was someone sneaking in to a morgue and snatching the body of the man you loved. You didn't want to think it would have been Reaper, you couldn't bring yourself to believe even he was that far gone that he was taking the dead bodies of old friends. You were swimming in your own head. So many questions that you couldn't even begin to wonder where to start looking for answers, but the most important one flashed like neon signs against the backs of your eyelids. 

_Where had your Jack gone?_

* * *

You waved goodbye to her the next morning as you climbed back into the armored vehicle on its way to gather more medical supplies from the nearest city. From there you hopped on a plane and back to where Moira had given you the location of the transports with super solider serums. With a few days to kill you searched up and down through protected military networks for any sign of Jack's body being recovered, or any sign that his enhanced genetics was being used somewhere else. 

You spent days pacing your motel room, contemplating whether or not Moira was capable of doing something like this. She was perfecting her own serum, but she already had a sample she was working with in Gabe's blood. It scared you that you didn't know for sure or not if she was possible of going behind your back like that, of seeing you in so much pain and knowing all along she had his body. With a huff one night as you sat up in the uncomfortably stiff bed you decided she couldn't have done it, that she was your _friend_ , and friends don't steal the bodies of their loved ones.

This left you even more concerned though. If not her, then who? 

You pondered this day and night, every moment you were awake and not in dreamless sleep. You mulled over options over and over again all the way until you were climbing into the back of a heavily armored and refrigerated truck dressed for combat and donning your pieced together reflective mask. With your hood high on your head you sat between walls of glass vials in little containers, all of them bearing bio hazard stickers on the front and warnings not to ingest. The first few miles went smooth, you could hear the drivers up in the cab having a muted conversation about some meeting they were required to go to after dropping off the samples. Talon agents in plain clothing, you guessed based on how they were talking, and that made your stomach churn a little.

The truck stopped at a light, according to your hacking screen tracking the truck's movements. It was stopped for a few seconds too long, then a few minutes too long and you were bracing yourself waiting for something to happen.       

In the silence you heard a noise out place. A dull beeping, something with low pulses had hit the side of the truck. You stilled, closing your eyes and focusing only on the noises outside. Something or someone was outside the doors, you reached for Jack’s SEP gun strapped to your hip, your only weapon besides your own hands. A sharp high noise grew from the handle on the outside of the truck, bursting with a trill and a blinding white light before both doors flew open and you were met with the bright sunlight of day.

You stayed steady on your feet and raised the gun. Gray smoke poured into the truck, smoke that was surrounding the area you were sure to obscure any wandering eyes from seeing an assailant attacking a heavily armored truck.  Unluckily for whoever was coming into the truck, your mask was able to pick up on movement you couldn’t see with your own eyes and locked in on someone approaching with… _a bow?_

You almost started laughing.

“You look like a fucking idiot with that thing.” You yelled out to get their attention and they took the bait, firing a quick arrow to the sound of your voice, missing by inches.

Behind you glass shattered sending a rush of adrenaline to your veins, a rush that you used to lunge towards the attacker. The person came swinging into view, bow lowering to their back and hands flying at you in a flurry of fists. This guy was fast but he was clumsy. Not just for the choice of weapon, but he was clunky with hand to hand and wasn’t quite keeping up with your jabs as you fought him out of the truck and into the smoke filled street.

You kicked at him, taking out his knees and sending him to the ground where you were able to get a look at him through the smoke. Half his face was covered with a mask, body in gray armor to blend in with his smoke, but from what you could see of his face he was handsome with dark eyes and dark hair slicked back into a ponytail. He swiped at your feet sending you to the ground but you'd played that game with Gabe too many times to know to shoot back up immediately, and instead hooked at his waist wrestling him to the asphalt. As he fell you ripped his arrows from his quiver, tossing them away and out of sight which he responded to by narrowing his eyes and throwing you from him.

As he tried to roll from you, you grabbed an arm and twisted it behind him, sending him to the ground again. You stomped a foot on the end of his hair, keeping him trapped against the ground, holding his arm and threatening to break it if he moved in any direction. He knew he had been defeated fairly quickly, raising his other hand in the air next to his face as a show he wouldn’t fight anymore.

“Who hired you?” You growled down at him. 

“I do not ask questions of my employers.” The way he spoke sounded so familiar to you, but you couldn’t place it. You snarled behind your mask and pressed the gun against his exposed forehead skin.

“The only thing I know is that they work with Talon.” He snarled out. No, that didn’t make sense. _Moira_ worked for Talon, they wouldn’t need to steal from themselves. “I never met them in person.”

“Do you still have a way of contacting them?” Your gears were turning, maybe if you could somehow connect to this person through the mercenary Moira could have them stopped. The man at your gun looked to you with both confusion and anger through the sides of his eyes. “I’ll pay you double whatever they're giving you if you can help me contact them and get a name.”

He raised an eyebrow and stared into his reflection on your pieced together mask.

“Triple if you never work for Talon again.”

He shifted slowly so you knew he wasn’t trying to attack you. You moved your foot so he could lift his head again, releasing his arm and raising the gun with his head and as he stood to his full height. He was fairly short and it occurred to you that you were probably offering more than this information was really worth, but he held out a hand to shake and his eyes firmly stared at your covered face.

“If this is a ruse, I will hunt you down and kill you when you least expect it.”

“I believe that.” You carefully holstered your gun and shook his hand as you heard coughing sputtering from opening truck doors. The two agents in the cab were waking from unconsciousness and gasping for air in the thick smoke your mask was filtering out. “You didn’t kill them?” You asked the assailant almost surprised, since taking the drivers out would have been your first move.  

“I do not kill unless absolutely necessary.” His shake was firm, holding your hand with a crushing force enough to feel the pressure through armored gloves. “Follow me.”

He turned, quick on his heel and you were then able to see his real skill. He was light on his feet and grabbed every arrow you threw in one fell swoop, he was able to scale fences through alleyways with ease and with virtually no sound, you followed him sneaking through shadows and out of sight of a worried public staring at the smoky mess left in the road. He led you to a high end hotel on the corner of a city block overlooking a lush mature park. Through an emergency stairwell he scaled up flights and flights of stairs until he finally brought you into a modern hotel room you would never choose for your own temporary accommodations on solo missions, it was far too bougie.

"Is money all it takes to convince you to change sides?" You crossed your arms over your chest as you looked through the room. 

"My only interest is in saving myself. I know when I have met a competitor who I am not able to take out. Besides, if I was going to come back to this employer empty handed, I may as well get something out of it."

"Fair point. How do you know I won't double cross you though?"     

“Take off your armor.” His voice was stern as he unstrapped his own. “The mask as well. I want to know who I’m looking for if I do not receive payment.”

Although he certainly couldn't see, you rolled your eyes beneath the mask and set a scan of the room on your screen in the mask, just in case he got up to anything unsavory. By the time your heavy protection was off you turned back to see him booting up his own, albeit nice for casual use it was nothing compared to yours, computer. Without the armor the man was down to baggy pants and a tight tank top, your eyes followed the incredibly intricate tattoo along his arm.

“Really into dragons?” You raised an eyebrow at him as you worked on configuring a program at your hacking screen to join into his computer. He shot you an annoyed look and eyed your face for the first time. “Yikes, sorry. No need to give me such a mean look. It’s a neat tattoo, wasn’t trying to piss you off.”

"Thank you." He said quietly before returning to the computer screen and opened his system to message the employer. "Are you ready?" 

You nodded your head, sinking into a nearby chair and starting the scan. 

"This better be good news." A female voice rang over speakers into the room. 

"Unfortunately no, your target hired extra security and I was unable to acquire what you needed." The man looked to you in question, wondering if your screen had picked up any information yet. You motioned your hand, silently telling him to keep talking. "I would like to continue perusing this for you until you have what you've asked for, even if that means delaying my payment."

"Well isn't that just so kind of you. If only you could have done the job right the first fucking time." 

Your heart skipped a beat. 

You knew that voice. 

"I promise I-"

"I don't want your fucking promises! I'm going to look for someone else who can get this done _right_. God, all of you mercenaries are so fucking useless. How hard is it to intercept one fucking truck?!" 

You closed your eyes in reluctance, shaking your head and setting your hacking screen down. You didn't need to trace anything to know exactly who this was. The man seemed to take the hint, watching you carefully. 

"Have it your way." He muttered before disconnecting. 

There was a beat of silence, a moment where he was unsure if he should speak or not before you let out a heavy sigh and shot to your feet. 

"Payment can take seven business days to transfer. I'll just need your info if you want to type it in here." You held out the screen which he reluctantly took, but leaned back in his seat to fill out. You paced around the room, his eyes would flicker up to yours. You didn't even know where to begin with this information, but you knew she must be out of her mind to go after dangerous super soldier serums. 

"You look nervous." He started and you shot him a disapproving look. Something about him was familiar, a smirk on his lips that you couldn't place but it felt like you were glaring at someone you'd known your whole life. "I have some sake if you'd prefer to not face your emotions."   

He held up a small container and sloshed around the liquid inside. You actually chuckled at the offer but tried to hide it, which he shrugged and took a swig of the drink anyways. He had a sarcastic fire in him, one that reminded you almost of yourself. Same closed off stance, same over-it look in his eyes, same cocky attitude. You liked him. It didn’t hurt that he was good looking either, or that you were painfully lonely. Maybe it was time to finally make a friend other than one working for an organization you desperately tried to dismantle, or ones it hurt too much to talk to. You could use a friend who knew nothing about you. A clean slate. A fresh start. 

Done pacing, you leaned over a pad of paper and quickly wrote your phone number leaving it for him to decide if he wanted it or not. 

“If you ever need a hacker, hit me up.” You tried to force a genuine smile but it just felt weird and he looked to you with an unsure grimace.

“Thank you?”

Hm. You never were that great at making friends.

You started gathering up everything again, debating on actually staying to drink with a stranger or not. _Nope_. Your smarter side told you. Sake with a man so light on his feet you couldn't hear his footsteps and quick enough to shoot an arrow through your skull that you just met didn't _quite_ seem like the brightest idea, but it was tempting. As you holstered your armor back on you pulled up his information on your phone with the intent of just making sure he gave you something real, but you ended up staring at his name. Your entire body froze processing while you tried to register what you were seeing.

“Hanzo… Shimada.” You said under your breath, unable to swallow the bitter anger that laced your words. _“Hanzo Shimada?”_

“By the way you speak I assume you know of my family. I promise, I have left their ways behind me.”

He looked to you with honesty in his eyes, but now all you saw in your mind was a murderer. Someone who killed Genji and made him suffer the whole time. Someone who left his only brother to die after being cut through so violently with a blade. A coward who couldn’t own up to his own actions in any meaningful way, a clumsy sniper who was bad at hand to hand combat because he'd focus all his energy on ending lives with a blade.

You wanted to go ballistic, you wanted to reach for that gun at your hip and shoot it between his teeth. There was a fire in you that was burning the same way you’d felt about Tishler. He deserved it, he _deserved_ death. Your hands were shaking and it took a moment for you to realize he’d drawn back in horror, that his expression was detailed in black and white and you could see long since forgotten scars on his arms.

“What are you?” He gasped out.

“If I ever see you again, I will kill you.”

His throat tried to clear, face going stoic again before he tightened his body and leaned forward in a deep bow.

“I am truly sorry for any heartache my family has caused you.”

Fuck him. Fuck any offering of apologies when he didn’t even know _what_ he was apologizing for. With heavy breaths through your nose held your mask to your face and dropped your phone into the pocket at your side next to Genji’s knives, knives you could have used to cut open this monsters skin just as he had to Genji. 

“Stay the fuck away from Talon or one day you’ll wake to me slicing your throat open.” Your teeth were grinding together in the back of your mouth in pure anger. 

He shot up, eyes bearing into yours with wide pupils.

“Understood.”

You threw your mask back on as you flew out his hotel door, holstering your weapons before quickly jogging down emergency exit stairs. Too much. This was not what you expected to be dealing with today. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, gripping into the railings just a little too hard. Fuck. Your heart was racing, you didn't quite know how to feel about any of this, but you dialed Moira with the mic in your mask anyways. 

"I heard you disappeared after stopping an attack, thank you. Were you able to-"

"It's fucking Arntz, Moira. Tishler's girlfriend Arntz is trying to get your serum." 

* * *

Returning back home was like entering a mine field all over again. Your heart would race at every slight sound, every time the house settled, every chirp of the birds. People still called you. Worried friends on other continents still wondering if you were alive and if you were doing okay. Sometimes you'd respond back to the voicemails, out loud, never by calling them back. You tell them that you were fine. That now without other people voices in your head your focused on being able to put Jack to rest. 

Part of you believed Arntz got him. After all, she must have found Tishler dead in the back room of his office. She must have known you were involved, that the explosion was going to happen. So you hyper fixated on that for months. Time would be spent either tracing data on known Talon agents, or traveling to far off locations in hopes of catching conversations about your missing man. You were getting frustrated, more and more each day, more and more with the way things seemed to never quite fit together. It was a puzzle, but all the pieces were for pictures. 

You were nursing a headache from staring at your screens too long when a package was thrown over the fence onto the dirt driveway. The small envelope came just a few days after the year anniversary of the explosion. Plain padded envelope, no return address, you shook it around next to your ears to figure out why something so mysterious and light in weight would show up like this. Then your heartbeat raced when you heard metal clattering together, pulse beating hard against your neck when you realized exactly what was inside. You sprinted into the house, hands tore open the top, spilling out the contents on the kitchen table and your knees buckled as you fell into the chair at your side finally seeing them again.

Dog tags. Jack’s, Gabe’s, dulled and dented metal stamped with their names and basic information and you couldn’t stop yourself from running fingers over the raised letters. You thought you’d cry seeing them again, but it was more an overwhelming feeling of relief. You were smiling, happy to have just a little piece of each of them back. Fingers moved around the metal clinking together, Gabe’s tags against a set of keys only you two knew where they went. Carefully, you unclasped Gabe’s chain and moved around tags until you had one of Gabe’s and one of Jack’s on one long chain together. With both of them, you brought the metal necklace over your head and held the tags in a fist close to your heart. Just like your ring, you now had a part of each of them to always have with you.   

You stared at the other chain, holding the other set of each of their tags and the now unusable keys. Gabe told you to bury his, to mourn him, but that was something you couldn’t bring yourself to do. You cracked your knuckles, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. Part of you, somewhere deep down, truly believed there was the smallest chance you could still save him. You were terrified of facing him again, paranoid about it enough to make a farmhouse in a military fortress, but a little part of your heart clung onto the dog tags for hope that you could put them around his neck again and bring Gabriel Reyes back to life.

Instead you hung the extra chain off a screen in the room where you spent your days hacking into secret files and tracking down people who didn't want to be found. It was around that same time that news of Reaper began appearing again. Reports of him attacking officials or medical facilities, they were always accompanied by security camera footage of the masked man. As you started at those videos you realized you either had a very active imagination, or he had been wearing the same cloaked outfit in your hallucination when you visited Moira as he was on the footage. Something about that stung. 

You thought about that hallucination often, wondering if he really had come to look at you, kneeling down at your feet and held you so gently. You couldn't let yourself think that. Gabriel Reyes was gone. Gabriel Reyes was dead. Reaper would have killed you. You were laying in bed trying to sleep often when you thought of that, especially on the night of a breach in the fence between the neighbors house and the farm property line just out of sight from the cameras and flood lights around the outside of the house. You rolled your eyes and pulled on your running shoes, damn deer, they must have knocked one of the poles loose jumping over again. You holstered Jack’s SEP gun to your hip, carrying nails and a hammer in one hand and a lantern flashlight in the other.

Off you set to the edge of the farm, eyes carefully watching the shadows for unnatural movements. Thinking about the hallucinations was putting you on edge, hyper fixating on anything even slightly misshapen in the dirt. The trail along the fence was eerie in the dark and it certainly didn't help that the low mist from the neighbors crops was hanging in the air. As you worked on hammering up the wood again, you thought you heard your name almost as a whisper in a gust of cold wind, but there was absolutely no way, it must have been a trick in your mind from one of the distant animals.

Your gut told you to turn around, but you wished you hadn't. 

There, standing just a few feet from you lit through the mist and a dying lantern was a man covered in scars, face swollen and cut, body injured and laced back together with ugly stitches. Your heart sank to the ground, then even lower. _Jack_. 

“Fuck.” You said under your breath. The hallucination stared back at you with wide lost eyes. “Fuck!” You screamed at it, voice ripping from you with an anger that you couldn’t control, your curse echoed across empty farm fields rippling into the air. “This can't be happening again!”

You were shaking. You couldn’t take it, you couldn’t take seeing him anymore and not hearing his voice. You couldn’t take the way your mind created a version of him with grayed over hair, with scars across his face, with a lifetimes of sorrow written across his expression. The moonlight was making all his colors muted and your heart was racing at the thought that you were slipping. At least before your visions would have him smirking back at you, would have his commanders blue jacket- you wanted to lunge at the hallucination and jab until it was gone because now he coming to you in a state that just looked _pathetic_.  

Even though it was cold in the dead of night, you were sweating. Hands running over your face and through your hair as you spun in your mind and it felt like this would be the thing to finally break you. It didn't take, whatever Moira gave you didn't fix you. You were breathing hard, on the verge of panicked sobs, limbs going numb from fear, the hallucination reached out for you.

A warm hand landed on your arm and you jerked your head up to look into terrified blue eyes. _No._ It felt all too real. Your heart was racing through your veins and you could hear every heightened beat pulsing in your eardrums. You _can't_ feel this, his hands all over your body, the happy feeling that would spread when he would touch you- you _can't_ do it when you know _he's not real._  

Moira. You needed to call Moira, _now_. Heels digging in the dirt you turned and took off sprinting back to the house, abandoning your lantern and your tools. Your stomach wasn't going to give you enough time to make it back, it felt like your insides we're rattling around with each hard pace, kicking up dust behind you as you turned to see the hallucination following you with stumbling steps. Suddenly it felt like you were the star of a low budget horror movie, being chased by nightmares of your own imagination and your mind couldn't keep up with your body. You could have sworn you heard a voice yelling but nothing was louder than the sound of your own panicked panting. It felt like your own mind was weighing you down, your feet refused to work with you and your body tumbled forward skidding into dirt and rocks cutting the palms of your hands and into the skin on your knees.

You weren't going to be killed by your own demons, you weren't going to give in to the dark side that Gabe always feared. This was just your paranoia, just a part of yourself you were ignoring trying to make you suffer for not knowing where Jack's body was. You were blinded by panic, without being able to focus your mind slipped back into fight or flight survival when it saw the figure coming at you and your soldier reflexes kicked into high gear and you let your training take over.

Jack's SEP gun holstered at your hip was quickly unbuttoned with shaking hands and aimed at your minds creation as your body pushed further into the dirt. Everything in you said to aim between the eyes, everything told you to kill the hallucination with every bullet in the clip, but as your eyes locked with his your heart pulled your hands down in hesitation and your aim dropped to his midsection.

But your instincts still pulled the trigger. A deafening shot echoed through the empty fields setting off the cows on the neighbors farm and birds in the dark to flutter into the sky. In the distance lights were turning on in windows and curtains were opening, but in front of you dust was settling around a figure looming over you which buckled over with a pained groan and you scrambled away from it as it fell to your feet with a heavy thud. Your hallucinations never reacted quite like that to you trying to fight back before.

A voice spoke, gruff and dry, a voice that sent pins directly into your heart and froze your whole body with numbed confusion. The voice had a laugh to it, a joking quality, but it was weighed heavy with pain.

“Nice shot, sweetheart.”  


	40. New Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's back! ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ♡*( ͡˘̴ ͜ ʖ̫ ͡˘̴ )*♡･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait on this one!! Had a super busy time with work/school so I appreciate the patience! <333

Nothing could have prepared you to hear his voice or feel his body hit the dirt in front of you. A static buzzing spread beneath your skin, the feeling of fear and mind numbing confusion struck you harder than the bullet to his ribs. Part of you was still convinced this was a hallucination, panic bubbled from the depths of your stomach and forced all the air from your body as your eyes searched the scene in front of you.

It's not real. He's not real. He can’t be real. Even if he was real, he wouldn’t have left you alone _for a year_.

“Is that-” He coughed, groaning as a gloved hand pressed down on a bullet wound, but his face lifted back to meet your eyes with his signature smile and he sputtered through a chuckle. “Is that my gun?”

Okay, that’s it.

_You’re crazy._

You’re crazy, right?

In a gasp for air you desperately needed your body twisted, heels kicked up dust towards him and you stumbled onto your feet backing away from him, hand shaking as it reholstered the gun. Between his fingers you could see the blood seeping through, vivid drops of red hitting dirt below. His face fell from a pained smile to pure concern, you were stepping backwards with horror written on your face and fight or flight about to take over.  

“Don’t run-” His voice shook.

“Fuck!” You cried out at the man you still halfway believed to be a hallucination.

He tried to reach for you but buckled in pain and that gave you the opportunity to dodge his grab and run as fast as you can towards the flood lights surrounding the house. It was time to put all those running punishments into good use. Flying over ankle twisting rocks and divots in the dirt you sprinted as fast and as far from him as you could without even a glance over your shoulder. You huffed in breathless fear up the stairs to the porch and slammed the door behind you as you raced to your phone waiting on the kitchen counter. Your palms were sweating, fingers cut and dirtied from the fall outside, it was a struggle just to unlock the damn thing. You couldn’t steady yourself even as you scrolled through your contacts. Every microsecond that passed only tunneled your vision with each motion of your thumb. _M,_ why did Moira’s first name have to start with M?

A large figure stumbled into view of the flood lights outside. Your hallucination was following you, lagging behind all too realistically, fist pressing hard against a wound you’d created. He was hurt. You _hurt_ your hallucination. Your hallucination was bleeding and bearing its teeth in pain. The phone rang in your ear but it felt too heavy in your hand to hold all the way up to your head as you watched the man struggle towards the house.  

“It must be late where you are, is everything alright?” Moira answered before the first trill on the line rang through completely. Your wrist was going limp holding your phone in the air and her voice was distant. You breathed hard through your nose, pacing across the living room floor with eyes scanning the windows.

Your mind could form sentences, but coherent thoughts wouldn’t leave your mouth. _Moira help, there’s a dead man outside,_ you wanted to scream. Your heart felt like it was beating with each heavy step he took toward you. You breathed out a sigh of disbelief, air pushing from your lungs along with the lingering doubts that you were just imagining this.

“S-Sorry, Moira.” You stood in front of the window looking down at an injured man slowly limping up the steps of the porch. You've spent too long running and hiding. You needed to face this. Maybe if you just touched him he would be real. “I’ll call you back.”

“Wait-”

With a careless swipe you ended the call and threw your phone to the side, landing with a hard thud on the ground. Outside you could hear his thudding footsteps against the old wood, could hear him leaning against the wall for support as he propped himself up, dragging his body until he was resting at the front door. You could see him through the intricate frosted glass on the door. He tried the handle, unsuccessfully shaking it and you stared at the lock on your side.

On the other side of the glass he was in pain and frustrated. A fist beat against the frosted glass leaving a blood print which your stared at with wide eyes, not really registering the weight of the situation until you heard him groaning. The sound of him, the blood, the way his shadow moved across the glass, everything about him could only lead you to one illogical conclusion:  _he was alive._ With a shaky inhale you pried open the door, just a crack to look at him, to really convince yourself the man bleeding on your doorstep was the very man you’d loved and lost.

His face was bruised and swollen, a healing split lip and pleading eyes staring into yours, still icy blue but heavy dark bags weighed his face down beneath them. His jaw was covered in salt and pepper uneven scruff, hair above no longer just a graying instead a mix of fading blond to white. He was dressed for combat, tactical gear on but everything was dirtied and tattered, clearly well worn for days or even months at this point. It looked like he’d raided a second hand military surplus store and spent every second of every day in those clothes.

You were staring at him in stunned silence though the crack, mind going absolutely blank with all the things you’d wish you’d been able to say to him before he died.

Did he die? He’s supposed to be dead. Jack Morrison is supposed to be dead. Dr. Ziegler herself said he was dead. He’s _dead_.     

You were breathing harder, swinging the door open wide and you fell forward to grab at his face. Your eyes searched his for any remaining clues that this wasn’t true, that you were just hurting yourself by imagining him here. Fingers pushed through rough facial hair, across scarred cheeks and over chapped slowly smiling lips.

“Jack?” You sobbed out. _“Jack?”_

Instant tears streamed down your cheeks. He was warm, and he was scratchy against your palms, and he was _here_.

With an exhausted smile he fell forwards towards you. Bloodied fist pushing hard on his bullet wound, his other arm gripped around you in the tightest hug you’d ever felt. You were hit with the overwhelming reminder of the pure happiness that spread over your body when he touched you, a familiar and much needed feeling you melted into as he held you. You could have fallen to a sobbing mess on the floor right in that moment, could have lost yourself in his hold and buried your face in his chest until you suffocated.

You would have, until a low groan left him and you were all too aware that you had actually _shot_ him.

With a horrified gasp you pulled away, moving yourself under his arm to support his heavy body and guided him across the darkened living room to the sofa. He fell to it with knees giving out beneath him, body landing against the cushions in a hard drop.

“Shit.” You whispered to yourself, mentally checking off the short list of medical supplies you had, trying to remember the lessons the combat medics used to teach. “S-Stay here.” You stuttered out as you clicked on the lights in the room and sprinted towards your bathroom and the joke of a first aid kit you kept beneath the sink.

"I'm not going anywhere." You heard him mutter beneath his breath on your way out of the room. 

You were rushing, clattering and knocking things over, rising off the dirt with shaking hands and by the time you ran back to him he’d already unbuttoned the front of his ratty shirt. Light chest armor was dropped on the ground next to him, armor that clearly hadn’t lived up to expectations since a bullet ripped right through it. Every fiber in you wanted to stop and look at new scars, wanted to run your fingers on them the way he once did to you, but there were much more pressing matters.

“Get the bullet out.” He said through gritted teeth, head dropped back on the cushions and face twisting in pain. “I can feel it, here, between the ribs. It’s not too deep.”

You dropped to your knees next to him, face in front of a bloody mess. You were never one to be squeamish, but this was a sight you don’t think you’d be able to handle regularly. You dug through your first aid kit, at the very least able to find low grade medial tweezers. You were muttering to yourself as you shot back to your feet to get towels, mind on the verge of panic having a hard time really focusing on what you needed. Basing your knowledge only off of your own experience having Gabe pull a bullet from your skin you tried to think back to what he had in the moment. 

With a few swipes of a damp rag you tried to wash away as much of his blood as you could to see the wound, fingers pulling apart the skin and you almost made yourself sick looking into the torn apart muscle. You were glad he knew the bullet wasn't deep, because you couldn't see it in the mess of red and the thought of digging around for it almost pushed your stomach through your throat. He lifted a hand, placing gentle fingers on your cheek and roaming into tangled hair, eyes studying you through heavy lids.

“Talk to me while you’re doing it. Last thing I need right now is you passing out on me. I've never been great at patching myself up.”

“I-” _What the fuck_ were you supposed to say to him? You couldn’t even think straight, let alone hold a conversation as you dug beneath his skin. He hissed between teeth as you poured what little rubbing alcohol you had to sterilize. As precisely as you could with shaking hands, the tweezers pushed in until they hit hard metal and he sucked in air through gritting teeth, you could feel your skin draining and the cold sweat beading on your forehead. “Gabe dug a bullet out of me once.” You blurted out before realizing this was probably neither the time nor place to be telling him about this.

“The one on your side?” He grunted, reaching for the gun holstered at your hip.

“Yeah.” You replied softly, too focused on trying to carefully pull at the bullet to notice that he was prying apart a bullet from the chamber. “It happened one of the first times we tried to get into Talon, in the moment I didn’t even notice I’d been hit. It was so hard keeping it a secret from you." You paused for a moment just to focus yourself. "I have so much to tell you.” 

Your hand stilled, eyes distant remembering a life long since gone when your biggest troubles were just keeping secrets. You lifted your eyes to look into his, they were dulled with exhaustion and begged into yours to continue pulling the bullet from him. You rolled your lips between your teeth, chewing on the side of your cheek as you continued pushing tweezers past ripped muscle.  

“You and Gabe got into a lot more trouble than I knew.” He was trying to sound like he wasn’t in pain, but it wasn’t convincing.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.” The apology slipped from you like it had on so many sleepless nights when you’d whisper everything you'd wish you'd said to him into the darkness. 

His chest caught in a breath as you pulled the widest part of the bullet from his skin. Hand no longer gloved, his fingers were curling into the cushions below, back twisting from the awful feeling. Immediately following came a rush of blood that flooded onto the sofa below. He grabbed the rag you’d used to wipe away blood, pressing it hard and shifted his hips towards you.

“Matches in my pocket, grab them.” His face was morphing in discomfort, teeth grinding in the back of his mouth. You reached in and found the small box. “Light one, but hold it away from you.”

You lit a match in confusion, watching in stomach dropping horror as he moved the rag and poured some of the gun power of the bullet into the hole at his rib cage. You opened your mouth to ask if he had _lost his fucking mind_ when he grabbed your hand and forced the match forward, lighting the powder in his skin. From his throat a ripping growl escaped him, the gunpowder fizzled brilliantly for a few mind numbing seconds before he pressed the blood soaked rag back to it. You stared at him in aghast silence processing his version of cauterization.

His eyes were closed in pain, hand shaking, the snarl on his lips and scars down his body telling you this wasn't the first time he'd done something like this. Chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, fingers gripping into blood stained skin, you found your opportunity to take in the scars riddling his body now.

There was a large one on the side of his neck, another across his chest. Large old gashes you guessed must have been from when the building fell on him. His abdomen was now discolored with streaked blood but you could still see the raised sections where scars of deep cuts laid across. Two new scars slashed down his face, one over his lips. You had to look away, the mental image of him still with his blond hair, dressed in his commander blue crawling out beneath fallen concrete with a face pouring blood was making you queasy. Instead you looked to his body, and the real blood that was covering it. Blood had smeared all over, across his stomach, his clothes, the couch, your hands, the floor, blood was absolutely everywhere and you weren't even sure how it got in some places.

In the silence he dropped his hand to yours, weakly squeezing and a small smile lingering behind the pain on his lips.

“Fuck, Jack. I’m so sorry I shot you.” You squeezed back, a mix of anger and embarrassment heating your cheeks.

“I know it’s partially my fault for scaring you. I would have just come to the door but I guess it’s been too long, I didn’t recognize the place from the street.” He was trying to keep on a smile. You stared into eyes you’ve wanted to see for so long. Even though you were covered in his blood, even though your knees were bruising from falling in dirt, even though you could feel him right here in front of you, it still didn’t seem real. People don’t come back from the dead.

“That’s not why I was afraid of you.” Your brows twisted. He tried to sit up to look at you with concern, but you gently pushed him back so he wouldn’t hurt himself any more than you already had. Too ashamed to look him in the eyes, you stared at his calloused hand in yours. “I used to… see you. I would have these hallucinations of you and Tishler and I thought that maybe it was happening again.”  

“Oh.” He breathed out, a beat passed and you wondered what he must have been thinking about. His eyes fell from the ceiling to the wallpaper, following along the delicate white twisting flowers. “Are you still seeing hallucinations?”

“As long as you are actually here, I don't think I am anymore.” You studied his face, memorizing every scar and wrinkle he didn't have before. He reached up again, his palm to your cheek and thumb gently caressing you. You turned to kiss him, to kiss his rough fingertips before standing and gathering towels. “Hang on, I’m going to try to get some of this cleaned up.”

He stayed perfectly still, sprawled out on the couch, blood drying against his skin as you wet some of the towels in the nearby kitchen sink. In the silence of the house you could hear his breathing, hard puffs of air from his nose pushing with every strained muscle pulling around the cauterized wound. The water in the sink was running pink with as you washed at his blood beneath your fingernails. You tried to scrub what red stains you could off your skin, but your whole body felt like it was flipped upside and your brain wasn’t processing what was actually happening, you were too distracted to think about proper hygiene.  

“I think I have a bioemitter somewhere, it’s not Overwatch quality but it’s better than nothing.” You dug through tall cabinets and past long forgotten junk finding both a bio emitter and a package from India with your name and Morrison as the last name you’d hid away from yourself, too afraid to open it. You pushed the package to the side, deciding that was for another day. “Do you need something for the pain?” You called over your shoulder, but he stayed quiet.

Wet towel in one hand, bioemitter in the other you tiptoed to him. Eyes still closed his breathing had evened out into an adrenaline crashed sleep. You gently set the bioemitter down, twisting the dial to turn it on before you crouched next to him and quietly cleaned off the blood from his body. His stomach reacted to you washing over with the wet towel, muscles pulsing when you got too close to the bullet wound, but he seemed to have drifted into a deep sleep.

“I love you, Jack.” Your voice was shaking, it felt so different to say it out loud when he was in front of you instead of whispering it to an empty farmland after sleepless nights. With a swipe of rubbing alcohol on the towel you ran over the wound and his body curled in on itself before relaxing into your touch. “I’ve been a mess without you.”

You pressed a covering to the injury, smoothing out the bandage and leaning forward to give it a kiss. Your eyes wandered over him for a moment, taking in the very real person passed out in front of you. He was a mess, too. You chewed at your cheeks thinking about what it took to get a dead man to another country without being detected, surely someone would have recognized the now older Jack Morrison stumbling around in the dark? You couldn't worry about that now. Not when he was here, he was alive and he could hold you again. Not wanting to leave him for even a second you lifted his arm hanging off the side and placed yourself under, cuddling to the side of the couch. Even in pain induced sleep he couldn’t help but hold you closer, fingers curling into the sleeve of your shirt and smiled as you buried yourself on his side. Your body felt like crying, like releasing cheat heaving sobs and burying yourself into his chest and never letting go.

Sleep wasn't your intention when you placed yourself under his arm. Even though he was passed out from pain, you stayed awake and listened to the thump of a heartbeat you'd never thought you'd hear again. You felt every real breath he took, felt every twitch of muscle and clung to his arm for warmth in lieu of a blanket. You didn't mean to fall asleep, but at some point familiarity took over and your eyes fluttered shut only be opened again to bright morning sunlight pouring in through the windows. 

You lifted a heavy head to check his face and make sure he was still real, breathing out a shaking sigh of relief when his face was calm and lulled to the side with sleep still. Careful not to wake him you shifted from beneath his arm, watching him the whole time with worry. As you stood you got a good look at your body after the events of the night. Patches of your pajamas were hard with dried blood, your legs streaked in it from when you pulled the bullet. You were covered in dirt, skin where you fell bruised and rough. You placed a kiss on his greased forehead at the edge of a new scar before gathering damp towels and heading off to the bathroom. 

As a habit of being alone you left the door open, dropped clothes to the floor and stood in lukewarm water before turning the shower up high. Now you wished you'd bought a different soap, something fruity maybe, something that wasn't so plain and masculine, but after Jack was gone you continued to buy the same soap he used to. Soaked in the generic clean scent, your hand wandered to the dog tags still hanging at your neck, under burning water you read them over and over again questioning how much Jack knew about his best friend, how you would even begin to explain what happened to Gabriel Reyes. 

Your breath caught in your throat when there was movement outside the glass shower door, a figure slowly making its way further into the bathroom. You looked away, too afraid of seeing him completely again and not even knowing why, but your heart was racing just by the thought of it. Outside of loud water you could hear him shifting around, kicking off his own clothes before the door opened and cold air hit your back sending a shiver up your spine. You curled both hands at your chest, gripping the tags in closed palms, your body tensing. Fingers touched the backs of your elbows, fingers slowly became hands, hands that careful slid up your arms until they joined over yours. The higher his hands rose, the closer his body got until his chest pressed to your back and you could feel him surrounding you. There was no stopping the shaky inhale you took as you leaned forward to kiss his cut knuckles. His breathing picked up, chest expanding against you before his fingers twirled the delicate white and black ring on your finger.  

“How-?” He almost sounded like he was about to cry. “I thought this got destroyed.”

“They sent me your safe.” You pressed your face to the back of his hand, stopping the tears from pushing through your eyes. "It was the only thing that made it through the explosion... I thought." 

"I was going to propose to you the day I signed for retirement." He sighed out. "Really propose, I mean. You deserve something special." 

"I haven't taken it off since I found it." 

His chest jumped again. 

"Considering the circumstances I don't think we'll be able to make it legal, but one day I would like to actually ask you properly." His lips fell gently with little kisses to wet hair that made you feel warmer than the water hitting you before he buried his face against your head. You could feel his eyebrows twisting and the way his hands gripped over yours. He moved, turning you to face him with arms still circled around you. When you lifted your face to look at his, eyes were glistening with pent up tears. His mouth hung open, no words to form from seeing you in the ring he picked.

"I'm not taking it off." You threatened and that made him smile, which made you smile. 

You pushed onto the tips of your toes, reaching for his face and pulling at his jaw to bring him close. His expression morphed from pained happiness to surprise, his chest shuddering before your face came closer to his. You kissed him as hard as you could, unwilling to break for air or sobs. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and hugged at his head to make sure a kiss like this would never end, deep with over a years worth of agony pushing from your lungs to his, long nights of wishing you could kiss him just one last time exploding into your passion as you cried and kissed him like you’d never get the chance again.

His arms held you, fingers digging into the skin of your back, pulling you so close into him you thought your bodies might just mesh together. Toes no longer touching the ground he was lifting you to his height, wound at his ribs seemingly no longer crippling him. You never wanted to leave these arms again. 

“I am so fucking mad you've been alive this whole time-” You finally sobbed out when your lips parted, but he pulled you back immediately for another deep kiss. You had to touch him. Running fingers through wet hair, down the side of his face into scruffy facial hair along his jaw you touched anywhere you could reach as you were held against him.

“I love you-” He breathed before crashing lips to you again. His mouth tasted of salty tears, but you couldn’t quite tell if it was him crying or you. He set you back on the ground, instead leaned over you holding you gently at your back and pressing kisses over and over again across your face until he landed on your forehead and stilled.

“I don't understand-” You whispered, shaking like a leaf even under the warm water, adrenaline of kissing a dead man wearing off, you were left naked and crying, staring at blue eyes that pleaded to continue kissing you. 

“We can talk about all this over breakfast, it’s been too damn long since I’ve made you a home cooked meal.”    

“I just shot you, you need to _rest_.”  

“I’ve lived through worse." He stretched to show you his bruised rib cage, the unbandaged wound already significantly less severe. "Please, let me do this. Let me start to have something normal again.” His hands fell to the sides of your neck, gently holding you with thumbs pushing at your jaw so you were looking up at him. “Please.”

"That sounds nice." You fell forward, landing your head on his scarred chest, hands gazing down the skin of his back feeling raised scars that were never there before. Your gut mixed with happiness, guilt, anger, and unadulterated joy. He kissed you again, and again, and again. You didn't want to let him go, instead clawing into him and clinging on with breathless kisses until the water was running cold. 

With a smile he traded spots with you. The water below tinted pink with the dried blood you hadn't seen and you couldn’t rip your eyes from him as he washed. He was flexing his body, pushing at the bruised skin around the bullet hole, and he chewed at the side of his lip when he noticed you were still using his soap. His body hair had gone all gray, but you also realized his skin was just a little more ashy in tone. Through the side of his eye he kept glancing at you leaned up against the back wall of the shower just staring at him. You still felt it. A deep aching love that never left. 

After the shower he lagged behind you, patting his skin dry as he followed you into the bedroom. 

"I kept all the clothes you left behind." You said over your shoulder to him as you clicked on the closet light. His side was still pristine, militarily organized with all the old clothes he never took to base. On the other side was everything you'd bought for yourself, mostly plain boring tshirts, comfy pajamas, and a couple pairs of jeans, piled in a mess on the floor. In the corner was a small metal case hiding away a mask and a combat uniform- explaining that was going to take a lot out of you. 

He didn't say anything so you turned to look at him and found he was studying the perfectly made bed topped with your comforter and pillow at an odd angle. He reached for you across the room, holding out his hand until you took it and joined in a loose hug staring at the makeshift bed on top of the bed. 

"I love you so much." He whispered against your hair, placing little kisses on your skull. "I'm so sorry you've been dealing with everything on your own. From now on I promise, we're in this together."

"I've missed you so much." You lifted your face to his. "I love you, Jack."

A buzzing alarm alerted a few rooms down at your computer, your ears perking up and the noise sending your heart racing. Immediately you went into a hyper focus. You threw on the nearest clothes you could reach and ran to the monitors overlooking the outside of the house. You called out over your shoulder the blond sitting on the edge of the bed. 

"Someone's on the property, stay out of sight." 

On security cameras you watched as the neighbor hopped the fence scratched his head at a trail of blood leading up to the house.

 _Shit_. You took off to the front of the house, trying to take deep breaths before greeting him. 

"Morning neighbor." You met him at your front door, opening it just a crack before he even had the chance to knock and a big fake smile plastered on your face. "To what do I owe the pleasure of such an early visit?" 

"We heard a shot last night." He raised a brow at you. "Wanted to come over and make sure everything was okay. There's a lot of blood out here." He was staring at the blood mark on the frosted glass that had dried over night. 

"Oh, I'm fine. A deer just spooked me is all, you know how aggressive those wild animals get." Fake laugh. Pretend like there's not a dead man standing in the hallway. 

"You hurt yourself?" He asked, trying to make sense of the blood marks. 

"No..." _God_ , this was so awkward and you were sure he didn't believe you. "Hit the deer and got some blood on myself." Now he _definitely_ didn't believe you.

You shifted uncomfortably on your feet trying to think of things to come up just to get the worried guy to leave. Wrong move. 

"God almighty, what the hell is that?!" He was staring directly past you into your living room and at the blood soaked couch. You opened your mouth to protest but he pushed past you, through the door and into your home. Hands running over a balding head he looked like he was going to faint just from the sight of it. "Now I know you're not butchering animals in your living room, what the hell happened last night? If you need help, I can help ya, you know? Johnny asked me watch after you if anything happened to him and we know the house got broken into a couple a years ago, I know some crazy stuff happens 'round here. We just wanna make sure Little Johnny's girl is taken care of and I won't be able to live with myself if you get hurt-" 

"Please, it's nothing like that I promise. That's very kind of you, but I am _fine_."   

"You ain't fine if you're popping off shots in the middle of the night. Listen maybe you should stay with us for a while, yeah? We're just worried about you since we never see you leave." 

If you could disappear, you would. You really didn't need a reminder that you were the town recluse. He was coming from a good place, heart filled with worry only wanting to help, but it couldn't have come at a worse possible time. 

"It's okay, Glenn. She's safe here, I promise." All the air was sucked from the room when Jack spoke and the neighbor turned so fast to face him you heard his spine pop. Jack was smiling, wearing an old tshirt that was just a little too tight from years ago and old jeans riddled with patches from working on a farm. The neighbor put a hand over his heart, extended belly jumping with little silent sobs. 

"As I live and breathe." He said under his breath. "Is that really you, Johnny?"

"Didn't mean to make the entrance I did. I accidentally scared her trying to get in last night and got myself shot. We're all okay here, nothing to worry about." Jack offered him a tight hug. The old farmer had tears welling at the corners of his eyes before parting. "No one knows I'm alive still. Can I trust you to keep this a secret?" 

"A-absolutely. We always have your back, boy. You know that."   

"It's appreciated. Now I don't want to be rude, but this is the first time I've been home in over a year." His face lit with a signature commander smile that made you blush from just seeing it. "Me and the missus have some things we need to catch up on." 

"Oh. Oh, yes of course! I'll just be- you two must have a lot to talk about!" He was hurrying towards the door, cheeks pinked and hands waving in the air. "I'll catch up with you both later, come by some time for dinner!" 

He slammed the door behind him and quickly waddled off, down the porch and across the dirt back to the property line. You stood with your palm to your face in utter embarrassment before you could hear Jack chuckling and meeting you at your side.

"Do you really trust him not to tell anyone?" You were rubbing at your temples.

"I do. He's a good guy." Jack placed loving pats on your shoulder before moving to the kitchen and looking through what food you had. "Take a seat, sweetheart. Let me take care of you." 

Cheeks still burning you climbed into one of the chairs and curled your legs to your chest, holding your knees tight to your body as you watched him gathering pans and ingredients. He tapped fingertips to his lips in thought of what he wanted to make, glancing at you with a little smile on his lips before deciding. He looked absolutely surreal there, standing in the kitchen again, making food as if nothing had ever happened. Having him here with you, already it just felt _natural_.   

"I've missed this." You smiled out, leaning your cheek on a knee. 

"Me too." Something was sizzling, but after a while his smile dropped to worry. "I know we have a lot to talk about. Where do you want to start?" 

You chewed at your lip. There were so many things you wanted to start with, you wanted to know everything within the span of seconds. Where he'd been for the last year, how he got here, why he was so beat up, what he knew about Gabe, _so much_ to ask him. 

"What happened after the explosion?" You finally landed on one that had been eating away at you ever since you found out his body in the autopsy reports didn't belong to him. 

"My memory of what happened right after is a little fuzzy. I know I got hurt, hit in the face with something but most of just seems like a fiery blur. I know Gabe was with me for a while. We were still fighting, even when we went back into the building to get people out. When the rest of it fell I remember him trying to drag me out, but he was hurt too. Kept accidentally swallowing my own blood." He grimaced at the memory. "I know at some point Angela and her team found us, I could hear them all shouting and everyone seemed to think we couldn't hear them. Then things went dark, almost like I fell asleep, but when I woke up I was freezing and laying on top of an autopsy table next to all these dead bodies."

"So they did actually think you were dead?" Your insides felt frozen and you brought your thumb to your mouth, teeth really to bite at raw cuticle but you hesitated. 

"I assume so. I was butt naked and my tags were hanging off the end of the table. I could see myself in this mirror above, and I looked... to give them credit I _looked dead_. When I woke up everything just off. I don't know if this overwhelming paranoia came on from the explosion, or everything the weeks before, but I thought I couldn't trust anyone or anything around me. My only thought at the time was that I needed to get out of there as fast as possible. So I found these scrubs and I covered myself, and blended in with the workers until I was out somewhere in the city and I just made a run for it." 

"No one noticed you?" 

"It was chaos there. Bodies were still being carted in, everyone was focused on saving lives so no one seemed to recognize me. I heard them say you and Reinhardt had been transferred to a questioning facility and I just panicked, I knew I had to get away, I didn't think I could trust anyone in Overwatch, not since I didn't even know what Gabe had been up to for years without me knowing." Steam rose into the air above the stove, he seemed to stare longingly into pan. "I hid in this abandoned shed on the country side for a while giving myself time to heal. It was miserable, but I kept just thinking of waking up next to you again, that you'd be waiting for me here, and that kept me going."

"You must have been in a lot of pain." You held your knees closer, nails digging into the skin on your legs realizing that while you were here ripping down wallpaper and crying your eyes out, Jack was laying somewhere in the dirt sleeping with worms and waiting on time to heal deep wounds. 

"After I was able to get up and move more than a few feet a day I spent a long time hopping from city to city trying to get closer to home. Hiding, stealing, doing whatever I could to not be caught or recognized. I'm not happy with the choices I made over the last year, but I did what I had to in order to survive." He sighed deep before flipping something on the stove and turning to look at you. "I did some cash jobs I'm not proud of, mercenary work. Acting like a soldier was when I started feeling normal again, but every time I went on one of those jobs all I could think about was how much you would despise me for just being the murderer you used to think I was- that I am."

"I have no room to judge you for what you did while you were out there Jack." 

"I'm worried you'll hate me." His voice was quiet. "I spent so long trying to right my wrongs as your commander, to be the good guy you thought I could be, but I was taking dirty jobs. Hits on people who may or may not have deserved them, robbing diplomats blind, roughing up people for petty reasons, all while I was hiding behind a stupid blue ski mask I found left behind in that shed." 

"Jack-" He had no reason to feel guilty, after all, you were a murderer too. 

"I was just trying to make it home to you-" 

"There's nothing you could tell me that would make me hate you, Jack." You stood, fist curled against the table. "Nothing. You were only doing what you had to in order to _come home_. All I've wanted this entire time was just to have you here with me, and now here you are. I don't care what you did. I don't care if you hurt anyone, I have you now and there is nothing else that matters."

"You're too forgiving. I thought you would be angrier." He said, voice low.

"I don't think I'm the kind of person who can hold grudges anymore." You hugged at his back, curling arms around his midsection and burying your face in the old shirt. He hissed through his teeth and you quickly realized you'd been hugging around the bullet wound and scrambled back. He shifted food onto plates before turning to look at you with a deep sadness in his eyes.  

"I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you from Gabe, if I had just known what was happening I could have helped you-"

"He was lying." You breathed out. Jack tensed, a plate of food in each hand stilled in confusion. "We should... sit down to talk about this." 

He was hesitant but he placed your meals on the table and lowered himself to one of the faded paint wood chairs. Suddenly you weren't very hungry. You sat in silence for a few moments, then a few moments too long, then he was breathing hard and leaning forward. 

" _Please_ , talk to me. How bad is this?" 

"I'm sorry, I'm trying to... gather my thoughts. This is going to be a lot Jack, but I think it's better if you just know everything now. There's one thing I need you to promise me, and that's that no matter what you'll let me finish. Please. Let me tell you everything before you ask questions okay?"  

"You're scaring me." He was eating slowly, obviously trying not to shovel food into his mouth after probably starving for days to walk here, but you couldn't bring yourself to lift your fork. "But okay. I'm listening." 

With a deep breath, you started from where things went sideways: when Gabriel Reyes strangled you. Only a few sentences in and he had stopped eating, elbows placed on the table and hands over his mouth stopping any burning questions from leaving him. You admitting everything. Cold, just the facts, you told him how you were both in different states of inebriation, you told him Gabe was sick and that Moira had been trying to find a cure to SEP side effects, as much as it pained you to admit it, you also told him how you were too afraid to admit you loved him at the time and tried to take those confused feelings out on Gabe as you straddled him and his hands fell around your neck. Jack looked like he was going to be sick. He clearly wanted to stay something, but he let you speak.  

The story of him and Moira threatening you the next morning and Genji's doubts about your injuries between reminders that even though Gabe had done such a terrible thing to you, you still considered him family, you didn't hate him made Jack shake his head. He nodded along when you told him how you watched Gabe spiral after Gérard's and Ana's deaths. Without telling him about Gabe's second identity, or the smoke, you told Jack about the promise he asked of you. It hurt, but you told him how he begged you once on the plane to do it, but you couldn't bring yourself to kill him. You admitted to the secret missions, including the one you got shot on, every time you falsified a report or lied about your location.

Your stomach flipped when you started with Tishler, about how much chasing down such a wicked man consumed you, how neither you or Gabe were willing to rest until he was caught. You told him about Moira joining Talon, about how you sought her out for help with monitoring your own condition, skirting around the details of Gabe's side effects wreaking havoc in your blood. Finally you admitted to something that genuinely shocked Jack into interrupting. 

"I'm a murderer, Jack. When Tishler was sending those roses, I killed five Talon agents. No excuse. No mercy. No honor. I didn't have to kill them, but I hated Tishler so much that I was blinded. It was cold blooded." 

"You-" He choked out.

"Please, let me finish." You couldn't look him in the eyes. "There's one last thing you need to know and it's... it's a lot, Jack." 

"I really don't know what else-"

"Gabriel is Reaper."

You swallowed hard, but it felt like you couldn't breathe. His hands dropped to the table. The muscles on his neck twitching and tensing, blue eyes staring unnervingly into yours.  

"That's not possible." He stated coldly. "The one that killed Director Petras's partner, and all the other Talon leaders? There's _no way_." 

"He was trying to control it. That's what Moira was trying to cure, the smoke that you've seen it's his body literally breaking itself down and rebuilding each time. He was sick and I-I only wanted to help him Jack. I thought I could, I _was_ getting somewhere. He changed after the explosion and I saw him, I tried to stop him-" 

"If he's Reaper then that means he's still alive." The realization was hitting him and he sank back into the chair. "Gabe is... still alive?" His eyes searched the air, piecing together memories. "On one of my mercenary missions, right before I made it back to the US, Talon interfered. Reaper was there, I saw him, I heard him. The white mask and all that... smoke?  _That_ was Gabe?"

You nodded your head slowly, gauging his reaction. 

"When you were being tortured by Tishler, y-you said Reaper killed him. You knew he was Gabe that whole time?" 

"I did. My story about my escape was also not entirely accurate." This was what you were afraid of. "Moira, of all people, was the one who was able to free me and she incapacitated him. Gave him some drug to make him weak. I was going to kill him. With my own hands and a little blade. I wanted to Jack, I wanted to kill him so bad, but Gabe found me and he didn't want me to be like him, he didn't want me to end up being Reaper, too. He killed him instead of me, but he if hadn't come when he did I would tortured a man to death." 

"Damn." He breathed out across from you, running hands through his hair and staring at a cold mostly untouched breakfast. 

"Gabe's a little lost right now." You dropped your hands to your lap, nails picking at dirt rashed palms. "I think we can bring him back, Jack. He's convinced he can take down Talon from the inside, but I'm worried he's just giving in to the part of him that wants death and power. I don't think he sees how deep he's gone in their ranks and the influence he has over the organization already. Maybe if we can just remind him of who he is we could-" Oh, a tear hit the back of your hands. "Maybe he would be okay? We could just all be alive and happy? That's all I want." 

Jack quickly circled around the table, down to your side where he lowered to a knee and grabbed for your hands. 

"That's all I want." You echoed in a whisper and your mouth strained in awful cries.

"I think I need a bit to process all of this, and I'm sure I'll have more questions in the next few days." He spoke softly, fingers grazing over the ring at your finger. "I-honestly I'm not sure if I fully comprehend how you both managed to hide this from me for so long, but I know one thing. You are still the woman I love, no matter what choices you've made. You are the only thing I think about when the nights were too terrible to sleep. Even after we've hated each other, loved and fought and been separated by countries and circumstances, I love you and I will _never_ stop loving you. If you want to try to bring Gabe back, I'll help you."

"There's more, Jack." You sobbed. "His blood, Gabe's blood in me, there's a chance I might end up like him. _Fuck_. It already started and I'm terrified you're going to think I'm a monster." 

"Shh." He pushed himself up, bringing you into a close hug, face pressing to his chest and fingers combing through your hair. "You don't have to deal with this alone anymore. You don't have to feel like you need to hide anything."

The hug didn't feel close enough. 

You gripped into his shirt and wiped tears against his shoulders, pulled him against you until your lips could kiss tear stained kisses up the side of his neck against a wide scar. 

"You would still love me even after I lied to you and hid things to you for so long?" You were begging him to deny you, to validate the guilt you'd weighed yourself down with. 

"I will love you no matter what." He whispered before crashing lips to yours and almost sending you backwards to the ground in the chair. Arms around you tightened, fingers slipping beneath the edge of your shirt and crawling up your back. You shifted in your seat, moving knees to either side of him and wrapping them at his waist. Your kisses were shifting from tear filled desperation to warm back arching love bites. You felt familiar blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Are you sure this is what you want right now?" He asked in a breathless question.

"More than anything. Please Jack, I need you." Ankles hooked at his back and he lifted you before you even finished talking. 

"I love you." He whispered against you before stumbling towards the back of the house, towards the bedroom. 

"I love you." You cried back. 

He landed you with your back down against the bed, hands roving over your body he'd missed all too much. You unhooked your legs from him and he helped you from your clothes, eyes falling to the burn marks across your skin on your arm and side. He had a small smile as fingers traced the scars leading down from your shoulder to your wrist then back up from your hip to your ribs. He leaned forward to kiss at the big ones, to remind you how much he loved you before moving to the old scar of a bullet that didn't get far in your skin but still darkened a spot on your side. He kissed that too, over and over again until you were shaking and pulling fingers through his hair. 

You propped yourself up on one elbow, giving him a look of wonder as your own hand slid beneath the edge of his shirt and over hard muscle. His stomach flexed against you, against your touch before he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on top of the pile of your own clothes. Sitting up while he was standing at the edge of the bed you carefully looked over every scar etched into his skin since the last time you touched him. The longest one was across his chest, but his stomach had its fair share. It was your turn to run fingers over every new mark, to kiss the big ones and the bullet wounds as fingers undid the button to jeans and dropped them to the floor. 

Before this went any further you leaned against him, forehead on his stomach, lips almost touching his belly button and he lifted his hand to smooth the hair at the back of your head. You felt... weirdly shy. 

"I always said you'd look good gray." You chuckled as you looked up to him. He ran a calloused hand across your cheek and his thumb tip over your bottom lip. 

"Hey, I'm not all gray yet." He joked and you tried to hide a laugh as you looked at the blond that was few and far in between on his head. "Listen, we don't have to do this, if you're not ready." 

"I want to." You smiled, lips closed before you turned to kiss his palm. "It's just been a while." 

"I know." He sighed out. "If you need to stop, just tell me. I'll understand." 

With that he sank to his knees and pulled you towards him until your hips were hanging off the bed. He kissed up your inner thighs sending spikes of heat through your blood, and your knees moved to his shoulders. His kisses continued between your legs, kisses becoming longer and wider as he slowly pushed a tongue between your folds and slid over you again and again. Warm and gentle, with the hint of a smirk, he was just how you remembered him. You sighed out a moan and pushed your shoulders into the mattress and hair from your face, you missed this, you missed him. 

It didn't take long for him to build you up, after all it had been over a year since you'd even tried to get off. Your body was burning with a fever only for him, hips wiggling against a scruffy face making your blush all the brighter. Then his fingers, oh his fingers, he pushed into you and pressed against nerves he knew would send you reeling, his smile telling you he was loving every second of you gasping out his name and gripping into the blankets. He toyed with you until you were dripping wet against his knuckles, a second finger scissoring into you as his tongue flicked at a pulsing needy clit.

"Please, Jack." You moaned out, legs twitching around his face. 

Your plead make him smile against your legs, taking his mouth from your core and kissing up your inner thighs, over your hip and bringing his body over yours until his mouth was consuming yours. You could taste yourself but you didn't care, all that mattered was that he was kissing you again and that he was happy. 

"You're incredible." He whispered before leaning back and letting your legs drop heavy back to the edge of the bed. 

He looked to you, studying your face and your hung open mouth as he pushed your thighs wide and lined himself with your entrance. One hand gripped his cock and he rubbed his tip along your folds, over your hole and swirling against your clit making your shake and groan for more. He wanted to tease you, to send you into desperate cries but you didn't want that, not this time. Instead you lifted your hips to follow him, not allowing him to tease you, only letting him slick with your wet until he was biting his lip and giving you a knowing smile as he finally relented and pushed ever so gently into you.

As he sank in, you reached up fingers grabbing at the air towards his face and whining cries leaving your throat. You wanted him, you wanted all of him, and he was more than happy to indulge and leaned forward to kiss you again. Your arms wrapped at his neck, faces squishing together with heated kisses once more as he held your legs open and slowly rocked into you. Every motion made you warmer, the feeling of his hands on you again spreading a happiness you'd missed so goddamn much. Your walls pulsed against him, tight and gripping around his familiar feeling until he pushed completely and filled you in a way only he ever could- the perfect fit.         

The emotions that filled you were almost overwhelming. Absolute happiness, love, but also a longing sadness that this had been missing from your life for so long.

"I love you." You whined out, tears welling at the side of your eyes. He lifted his face, bring a hand to your cheek and wiping away a tear that escaped.

"Are you okay?" He stilled on you, a look of concern behind flushed cheeks.

"I'm just-" You gasped in a hard breath. "I'm really happy to have you back." With that you moved your hips on your own, grinding them against him to tell him you definitely wanted to keep going.

As he sank in again he kissed you, your lips, your cheeks, your eyelids, forehead, neck, anywhere his lips could reach he was smothering you with all the love a year missing. He buckled into you, making your back arch with each deep thrust sending your mind into the skies. No longer were you afraid that you were touching a ghost, a hallucination that that felt all too real. This was real. He was warm and soft against you, he was driving you mad with each pump against twitching walls already on the verge of throwing over. This wasn't sex, this was the pure definition of making love and you'd never felt as close to him as you did the moment he had once hand tangled into your hair, the other at your chest with fingers running across sensitive nipples, his mouth sucking marks into your neck and his hips flush against yours.

You were seeing stars, fingers gripping into the blankets below finally pulling them from the perfectly made placement he'd left them in that last time he left the farm house. You were moaning, but tears were falling from your cheeks. Happiness radiating throughout your body as an orgasm ripped through your nerves making your head light and your fingers numb.     

"I love you, I love you, I am so in love with you-" He was repeating over and over again as a whisper against your skin. You could feel him spilling over inside of you, filling you and his lips met yours again in his final deep thrust before your body relaxed from its muscle tensing state. He nuzzled his face against yours, wiping tears from your cheeks with his own and kissing you in between.

When you were both panting messes, he leaned heavy above you on his arms at either side and his piercing eyes studied yours still dropping tears from the side. Still softening inside you he placed a shaking kiss to your forehead.

"Why are you crying sweetheart?" He asked, genuinely concerned he'd done something you didn't want him to do. You clawed around his midsection again, bringing him down hard against your body but the weight of him felt so nice that you couldn't help letting out a happy sob.

"I never thought I'd have you again." You held onto him like your life depended on it. "Can we just lay here for a while?" You asked him and your grip loosened.

He pulled his hips from you carefully, releasing a small stream as he left down your legs and to the blankets below. Being gentle with you, gentler than he needed to be, he handled you from the side of the bed until you were laying normally with your head on a pillow. Sweat was glistening on his forehead, but you smiled, pulling him towards you again. For the first time since you'd been living here, you climbed under the sheets and into a made bed and he was at your side. You stared at him, also getting comfortable under the blankets and he stared into your eyes before pulling you close.

In a bed you'd built with him long ago, face to his chest and surrounded with his warmth you smiled and it truly felt like home now.


	41. Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two hackers and an old man decide to take on the most well known terrorist organization.

Laying beneath sheets with him again felt surreal. His weight at your side, the sound of his breathing, it was something you'd longed for, something that had left such an emptiness in you that it overwhelmed you to feel him next to you now. You couldn’t stop staring at him, at the way his head rested on the pillow, at the age lines on his face that had deepened so much since you last left him outside of a holding cell on base. His longing eyes flickered to yours lying next to him in the bed, sunlight bouncing off them from the window shining bright into the room.

“So Gabriel really is Reaper?” His chest fell in a deep sigh, the seriousness of the situation sinking in to man who cheated death. His words were breathed out in an exasperated breath. "You knew the whole time." 

"I didn't just _know_. I actively helped him, Jack. I lied for him, I falsified reports, he taught me how to fight dirty to I could ever take him down if he went too far. I helped him with anything he asked, with learning to control his smoke. We protected each other." 

"It sounds like he knew you better than I ever did." He stared up at the ceiling, voice deadpan. 

"Maybe." You sighed and rolled on to your back, your neck resting against his strong arm laying beneath your head. "We told ourselves we were doing the right thing, but we were completely lost Jack. So focused on the mission neither of us could see we pushed everyone away. I think... I think he must have realized how bad things were when he confessed. I know he lied even then to continue protecting me. I feel like if we kept going the way we were it would have only ended in destruction." 

"I can't believe I never knew. You were both dealing with so much and I was blind to it the whole time. I knew something was wrong but I guess I just never imagined it would be anything like hiding that he was  _Reaper_." 

"I saw him, after the explosion. It was the worst I've ever seen him. He looked wild and he was covered in his own blood, and he told me to bury these-" You twisted the dog tags at your neck between your fingers and stared at them chewing the corner of your lip. "I'm not going to until I know for sure he's completely gone. 

He reached up, fingers running through your hair and squeezing you close to his chest. You clenched your fists and curled yourself against him, your whole body felt light, weight of long ago secrets and thoughts you'd pushed deep into your subconscious were now slipping easily from your lips.   

"Jack?" You turned your face, burying yourself against grayed chest chair. He hummed in response. "He asked me to kill him once. He didn't want to lose control." 

You heard his heart beat hard against his chest, felt his fingers holding you curling tight against your skin.

Gabriel Reyes asked you to kill him, something he'd trained you to do but knew you'd never be able to, and confessing that to Jack felt like you were killing him in a very different way. Even then, Gabe was a fire burning out of control and by not killing him you were the one spreading gasoline and spilling the trail for him to follow. On dark nights when you'd try to sleep the thoughts of how life would be now if you had killed him would stab at your gut, intrusive thoughts telling you that maybe if you had just done what he asked then maybe the explosion would have never happened, maybe you'd still be on a Swiss base wrapped in commander blue, maybe- 

Jack shifted, pulling his arm from beneath you, away until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He rested heavy elbows against the tops of his thighs, hunched over in thought. 

"There were these rumors about Reaper among some of the mercenaries in the UK." He was dragging his fingers across his face, wiping away the stick of cold sweat. "They said he's immortal, that no one ever sees him coming. No one would ever take any contracts to fight back against Talon because of him." 

"He's dangerous, but I think there's still some part of him that knows what he's doing is wrong." You sat up in the bed, loosely pulling sheets to your chest to cover yourself. "I know it sounds insane, but Jack I have to try to bring him back. He's my family and I know we can save him." 

"And if we do save him, what then? Do you think he could just live a normal life after that?" Jack snapped at you, standing and running hands through his hair. "If we save him that means we also have to make him pay for his crimes, we couldn't let him get away with everything he's done. We'd have to turn him into the UN-" 

"Then you'll have to turn me in too. His crimes are not his alone. If we can bring him back I will not let you hand him over-"

"Look at what he did!" Jack shouted and you scrambled away from him, pulling a sheet around your body as you gathered yourself on the other side of the room. "He took you away from me! He let an terrorist organization blow Overwatch to the ground. Thousands dead, so much technology and information stolen now being used by Talon to start another omnic war. He's too dangerous!" 

"I'm doing this with or without you." You swallowed your agent tendencies, no longer stopping yourself from talking back to a commander's orders. His scarred body stood against the bright window, bright sunlight surrounding him as his chest took in sharp breaths and his shadow moved across your body. 

"One of the contracts I turned down while I was trying to get home to you was this group of grieving parents off a little port side village in Germany. Talon had been trying to buy out their port so they could import weapons discreetly, but the whole village fought back and drove Maximilian and his agents out. They refused to sell, and three days later they sent in Reaper. In one night he slaughtered all of their children." 

Your whole body buzzed into a horrible numbness. A horrible heat pulsed through your veins as if your stomach was about to jump from your throat. _Gabe wouldn't do that._ Your systems never got an alert like _that_ , you'd only had hits on brief sightings of him across the globe.   

"There was nothing in the news-" 

"None of us would take the contract, they wanted someone to find and kill Reaper. We all refused. You still want to protect someone who would do that?"  

You were trying to reason with yourself, telling your racing heart that he was just doing what he had to. If he did this, you had to trust it was because there was no other option. 

"Yes." You choked out. "Now that I have you back I need the rest of my family too, and that starts with trying to get Gabe back. I already have a plan that I was working on to start, but please Jack, I need you to help me too. I really think if you're with me on this we can do it. I know it's going to be dangerous. I've always known. There's a chance he may not even recognize me anymore, that he's completely lost his mind, but Jack I have to try. I helped this monster be created, so I have to be the one to stop him." 

"He could kill you." 

"I know." 

Jack walked to you slowly, with eyes scanning over your body as you clutched the sheet tight against your chest. He still stood like a commander, shoulders back and broad, chin high in the air, but his eyes were so soft as they looked at you something so gentle that you couldn't place leaving you with a touch of sadness. His calloused fingers softly touched up the sides of your arms until they came to a rest at the tops of your shoulders. 

"Do you believe bringing him back would also help us take down Talon once and for all?" 

"I don't know." You breathed out as he slipped fingers into the base of your hair and pushed your head up so your eyes stared into his. "But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to finish them. I'm not going to let anything stop me. Governments, laws, snipers, I don't give a shit. We're going to get Gabe back and we're going to take those assholes down."  

His worry twisted face slowly spread to a thin smile. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours, lips to the tip of your nose. 

"That's my girl." He sighed out before dropping his face to bring you into a longing kiss. "Show me what you have planned so far, captain." 

You took his hand, the other holding sheet to your body and led him to your battle station- a giant computer setup monitoring everything 24/7. You pointed out the screens for cameras looking outside, showed him where the house controls were. You scrolled through different things until you were at a long list of code names and folders filled with badly timed pictures. 

“I knew I wouldn't be able to infiltrate Talon without Gabe or Moira realizing it was me, so I've keeping track of vigilante sightings all across the globe. Eventually I was going to hire someone to work for me and join their ranks as a spy, but I think I may have found someone else for the job. There's another hacker who does damn fine work, goes by the handle Sombra. To test her ability I had her get past the old Overwatch security systems that were still protecting all the evidence from the explosion, _and she did it_. That's how I managed to get these back." You touched the dog tags dangling at your neck, his eyes shifted from those to the ones hanging from your computer. 

"You trust her to work for you and not work for the enemy?" 

"I'm still figuring that out, I have yet to meet her in person. "

"Well what about these vigilantes? Any of them have good potential if it doesn't work out with the hacker?" 

"No one that's up to my standards yet. I have a suspicion that many of these new vigilantes are Overwatch agents. Most are working alone, their work is a little sloppy, but my best guess is many of them are now fighting because we’re on the edge of another omnic crisis.” You stared at one in particular, a mercenary sniper with a bow and arrow you met out in the field. He would never be in the running to work for you, but you were keeping a sharp eye on him. 

“People must feel the need to take matters into their own hands now.”

You shot Jack a knowing look and he smirked back at you, _god_ you missed that look. He moved you out of the way so he could sit at your controls, leaning far back in the chair to look at mounted screens and his hands were patting at his thighs. You joined him, sitting sideways over his lap, leaning your body against his chest as you looked over the massive amount of information sitting before you. His arm fell to your hip, sneaking beneath the edge of the sheet you were holding as cover and your heart beat at the feeling of being held like this again, of being touched with such love. 

"What's this one?" He lazily pointed to a floating screen of constantly changing lines of text flying down faster than you could read them.

"It's scanning all over the web and through internal military systems for hits on names." You listed off names on your fingers. "Yours, Gabriel Reyes, Reaper, Jesse McCree, Genji Sh-"

"What are you looking for?" 

"Anything?" Your heart skipped a beat. Trying to find out information on them was your only way of feeling close since you were too terrified to talk to anyone. "I, um. This is really embarrassing, Jack. After the explosion I isolated myself, I haven't spoke to anyone, no one seems to know where I am based on the messages I've had and I've liked it that way. It wasn't until recently that I was even motivated enough to leave the house to search for answers about what happened to _you_. I didn't... I didn't think I deserved their kindness or their concern after failing to keep them safe." 

He looked to you and you saw pity, but you also saw an aching guilt. His eyes flickered between you and your phone laying on the desk and he held you tight as he leaned forward towards it. 

"I'm so sorry you've been alone this whole time." He kissed your exposed shoulder, big clumsy fingers fumbling with unlocking your phone and bringing it to his face. "Oh, _sweetheart_." He sighed out when he saw how many missed calls, how many unanswered messages and texts were waiting for you on your silenced phone. 

"It's been rough." You couldn't look at it, still couldn't bring yourself to see the anguished look on his face, so instead you hid yourself against the crook of his neck. 

"Winston calls you _every day?"_

"I think it's his AI Athena set to call me just to see if I answer." 

"Huh." He held you just a little tighter, distracted you with a kiss to the top of your head that had you nuzzle against him. You didn't realize what he was doing until you heard the soft trilling of a line then the sudden booming of your name through the tiny speakers on your phone. 

"-What? Is this real? Hello?" You shot from your seat on Jack's lap, he was smirking and holding the phone out to you and you were trying to push it away, on the verge of sliding the end call button when Winston said your name again and you could just hear how it broke in his voice to realize it was you calling him. 

"H-hi, Winston. It's nice to hear you." You slowly took the phone and leaned back against your desk, pulling the sheet that had fallen back up to your chest. 

"I can't believe you're actually calling me back! I've been so worried about you, everyone seems to think you're dead or missing, the directors wouldn't allow me to go through your personnel file to find out where you went! Are you okay? Do you need help? Do you-"

"Winston, I'm fine. Really. I'm sorry I never called you back, I've just been grieving." 

"I understand, but really, I can't tell you how happy I am to hear from you." 

Jack stood, cupping your cheek with his hand and looking lovingly at you before smiling and making his way to the front of the house. You followed with the sheet dragging along the wood floors behind, he started cleaning the dishes from a breakfast you weren't all the hungry for, and you made your way to the porch swing outside.

"Where have you been all this time?" Winston's curiosity was laced with a hint of sadness, hurt that you hadn't told him long before now. 

"I'm in the US, in Indiana. I'm living at Commander Morrison's family house actually, he left it in my name if anything happened to him, which was a surprise." You looked to Jack at the sink, he had a little smile, a knowing one. Winston let out a little chuckle.

"I helped him arrange that, you know? He really loved you, and he was really proud of you. I'm so sorry for your loss." Winston's voice was so sincere it hurt. You bit back a trembling voice. 

"Thank you, its been quite the process trying to come to terms with it." You said, staring at the dead mean moving through the kitchen. You turned away, instead looking over the porch and onto long dirt fields still heavy with low hanging mists, out past your property line and down to the fence where the neighbor's cows were lounging in the warm midday sun. 

You sat covered only with a sheet, swaying lightly on the porch swing and talked to Winston, catching up on everything you could possibly think of. He told you all about the fall out of Overwatch disbanding, how he was left completely alone at the Gibraltar base and granted special permission to stay there by the legal counsel so long as he kept track of the abandoned technology and files still being held. He said Lena had a new girlfriend, he would meet her when they came to visit in a few months and that you should come, but you laughed and shifted in your seat unsure if your _now very busy_ life would allow you the time to do so.  

At some point you got into talking logistics, he was having a problem with Athena where every now and then she'd respond but her tone would be snarky. He thought it was funny, but you were just a little creeped out by the implications that maybe she was learning human emotions. He talked you through some of the code and you had him send it to you so you could take a closer look, but there was this quickly growing feeling in your heart of being whole again. You were working on something you loved, with a good friend who it felt like you hadn't missed a beat with. It felt like nothing had ever changed.   

You talked so long that Jack had already cleaned the kitchen, checked his gun shot wound, remade the bed, looked through your logs and notes about what could have happened to his body, redressed, and made himself a sandwich for lunch to sit beside you on the swing munching on while he listened to you ramble on with an old friend. 

The call ended with a promise to catch up again and that you'd think about joining him and Lena in Gibraltar.  After goodbyes, you dropped your phone to your lap and nudged Jack with a playfully mean elbow. 

"I would have called him back eventually." You grumbled, a smile on your face.

"Sure." He sighed leaning back against the swing, your feet lifted from the ground as he used his own legs to push it back and forth. "I'm not going to let you fall back into your ways with Overwatch. You have people who still love and care about you reaching out just to see if you're okay. Talk to your friends. No more isolating yourself." 

"Yeah, but-" 

"Nope, no buts. Who's next? Shimada, McCree?" 

"They're both unreachable. Genji's off in Nepal somewhere and I can't get a location on Jesse. I've actually been a little worried he went back to Deadlock." You fidgeted with your phone, digging nails into the cracks on the casing.  

"The one he had the tattoo for?" Jack pointed vaguely to where he remembered Jesse's arm tattoo being. You missed that tattoo, missed the man attached to it.  

"That's the one. He's only called once, at least that I know of, and since then I haven't heard back. It's been probably almost a year now?"

"Well I guess we'll just have to bring him back too." Jack abruptly stopped the swing, holding it back with his heels before surrounding you with his arms and lifting you into a cradle. You brought your arms around his neck, happy to let him carry you back into the house and all the way through until you reached the bedroom where he set you down on the edge of the militarily made bed. 

"I've really missed you, Jack." You sighed out as the sheet around you fell open and you stretched against the mattress. "I've missed your voice and the way you hold me. I've even missed your snoring." 

He smiled back at you as he pulled your clothes back over your body. Helping you, taking care of you in a way like that just felt so natural. Fleeting kisses parted from your skin when his fingers left you, only to return again at the next article of clothing. When you were dressed you pulled at his arms, forcing his heavy body on top of yours and into a tight hug, holding tight just to make sure all of this really was real. 

Even though the future was unsure, there was one had set in stone. 

You would never lose Jack Morrison again. 

* * *

 

The day Jack was back home was one of the busiest the house had seen since you'd moved in. First it was a frenzy of him returning, a gun shot in the darkness. Then it was Glenn, a curious neighbor hopping over the fence to check if you were okay. By that afternoon, it was the alert of a silent alarm being tripped from the gate leading down the dirt driveway.  _Someone else_  was on the property.

Jack stayed back on the porch, in the shadows and out of sight with eyes scouring the fields for any runners as you rushed down into the dirt. The ground was just wet enough from morning mists of nearby farms that it was soft. You had Jack's SEP gun low at your side, anticipating anything, terrified that it would be Gabe finally here to do everything his nightmares told him to do to you. Your heart was pounding, palms sweating against the grip, you weren’t ready for a reunion with both of your super soldiers in such quick succession- especially not when one of them would very well be out of his quickly deteriorating mind.

Keep calm. Focus. If it's him you have to remember your mantra. 

"Never let your guard down." You whispered as you stepped from the porch to the dirt. 

"Dodge." Under your breath as you glared at the empty driveway. 

"Attack from the back." You turned to look back to Jack, barely visible but ready to attack if anyone came near the house. 

"Go for the knees." Every heartbeat sounded like it was screaming _Reaper_ as blood pumped in your ears. 

"Fight dirty." You were losing your grip, finger too close to the trigger. 

In a moment to breathe you centered yourself, focusing on your mind and the noises around you. Focus. Behind you there was a low squishing sound, shoes silently stepping into mud and you scanned your eyes to the ground. Where the noise came from you now also saw a very distinctive shoe print that looked strangely more like a footprint. As your eyes stared at the print you noticed something about it that just felt _off_. It was almost as if someone was still standing in it, almost like a stilled invisible foot was pressing deeper into the mud.

Moving as fast as you could you lunged forward, arms open ready for a grapple, expecting to trip over yourself, but instead body slamming into something or _someone_. As you fell with the air being knocked from your lungs, in your arms appeared the terrified face of someone who clearly didn’t expect you to do what you had just done. A woman flickered into sight as you both fell to the ground with a loud _oof_  leaving you, her body sending up dust into the air and you pinned her to the ground sitting on her chest, knees sinking into the mud. 

“Who are you?” You barked at her, one hand on her throat, the other clocking the gun. She had this smug little smile on her face and reached for the dog tags around your neck.

“Aww-” She clicked her tongue at you. “I didn’t realize these were for sentimental value.”

“Ugh.” You deflated, pushing yourself up from her and offering a hand to help her up. “You must be Olivia.” She looked different than the pictures of her you'd found researching her. She was wearing augmented contacts to change her eye color, her hair short and very different from anything you'd seen before, face more filled out. She'd done a good job at changing her appearance, she almost fooled you.   

“Wha- How? You know my name?”

“Of course. I wasn’t going to trust my mission to a complete stranger. I do my research, just like you did yours.” You stared her down, wondering how the hell she managed to be either so well camouflaged that your eyes couldn't find her or how she managed to actually be _invisible_. "Apparently you didn't do quite enough to know how to not trip my alarm system though, rookie move Olivia." 

“Call me Sombra.” She pulled little chucks of mud from the ends of her chopped ombre hair and averted eyes away with reddened cheeks, standing on her own attempting to shake off dirt and rocks sticking to her back.

“Well Sombra, why the hell were you sneaking around on my farm?” 

“Just getting a feel for my new employer.” As she turned her head to look at muddied shoes, you could see the body modifications she’d made to herself. Wiring and enhancers fused to her own body, on the side of her skull and down the back of her neck. She was a good hacker, and she also looked the part.

“You really should have messaged me that you were coming. I _very recently_ found out I’m not really the kind of person that enjoys surprise visits.”

"Didn't exactly intent to introduce myself yet." She grumbled beneath her breath.

You eyed the handheld automatic weapon holstered at her back and motioned for her to follow you towards the house, hearing her steps following you with some hesitation. Behind you, there was a stutter in her voice as you realized you were following Jack’s trail of blood up the stairs and dried dark red was smeared across the front door. You stopped a stupid smile knowing it was a little mean spirited to fuck with her, but you wanted to make yourself laugh after the roller coaster of a day you had.

“This is from the last person who showed up unexpectedly.” You pointed to Jack’s blood stain across the frosted glass of the front door and saw the color drain from her face as she passed by it into the house.

“Got ya.” She nodded, neck muscles tensed and eyes avoiding yours. 

Gabe would have laughed, or chuckled at least, you think. You looked for Jack, scanning across the house for him but saw no trace. Content with him hidden you walked her to the kitchen table, past the couch with dried blood soaked into the front of it and you tried not to comment on her grimace at the sight. Now seemed like as good a time as any to prepare her for what you were asking.

"Listen, Sombra. I don't want to waste your time. What I'm asking you to do is incredibly stupid and likely going to get you killed if you make the wrong move. If you're going to be part of Talon, I need to know I can trust you and your abilities."   

"I thought getting those tags for you was proof enough-" 

You grabbed at her, circling behind her before she could sit or even process you gripping both elbows at her back and you detached her gun. She squirmed against you and bared her teeth with an angry grunt, whipping her head back to look at you as if you were crazy. 

"If you're going into Talon you're going to be treated like shit. You're going to have to fight to prove yourself or they will get rid of their weakest link." You growled next to her ear. She breathed out a shaky breath, but in a split second disappeared from your grip and you fell forward, catching yourself in the air before falling to your face. "What the fuck?" Your eyes shot around the room, stopping at the sight of her now standing back next to the door. 

"I can handle myself." She teased, nails tapping on a tiny metal object in her hand.

"How the hell are you doing that?" Immediately your anger of her getting out of your grasp became wide eyed curiosity. She held it out in her palm for you to look at.

"Translocation. I can place this down anywhere and with the enchantments I've made it connects me to the-" She babbled on and on about the logistics of it, but you just kept flipping it around over and over again in her hand fascinated by the mechanics of it. Overwatch never had _anything_ like this. You weren't even sure Talon had this technology. From the way she talked about it, the whole thing sounded more like Gabe's genetic degeneration rather than having anything do with transporting organic material fused with nano technology from one place to the other using breakthrough scientific discoveries.

The world was getting weirder and weirder it seemed.   

"This is amazing." You finally said when she was finished and beaming at the little locator.  

"I think so too." Quick fingers snapped around it to cut you off from looking at it any longer and she cocked her head to the side giving you an impatient look. "So, what exactly is this _dangerous_ mission?"

You sat with her at the kitchen table and laid out a plan of infiltrating Talon and their ranks. You could give her most things, floor plans, access codes, lists of higher up agents including the inner counsel, but she would have to figure somethings out on her own. She leaned forward with pointed attention, head resting in her hands and quite literally sitting on the edge of her seat. She seemed eager to get in there and get started, and that made you both excited and horribly nervous. She would be your eyes inside, logging anything she found out about Talon. You weren't asking her to do much, you didn't want her to blackmail anyone, to murder or cheat her way through their agents, you just wanted a quiet observer. 

You laid out your ultimate goal for her plain and simple:

"Intel on Reaper and his involvement in the inner workings of the organization." 

"And what exactly do you plan to do with that information?" She was crossing her legs and wearing a smug grin as if she knew something, but you knew enough about bluffing to tell she was bullshitting her confidence.   

"It's personal." You twirled a finger in the chain of your dog tags and she deflated just a bit as she leaned back in the wood chair. "All I'm asking you for is information. I don't care what else you do there so long as you don't get caught. I don't even care what your real motives are for taking this job, but I just need you to know, if you double cross me then Talon won't be what you have to worry about. I will personally see to it you don't make it out of this alive if I even get a whiff of you really working for them, do you understand me?" 

"Loud and clear." 

"I can try to help if you ever need me to, but please, only contact me if it's an emergency. I can try to help but you need to know before you head in that there is no backup plan, no extraction team, nothing to save you if shit goes sideways." You were crossing your arms and part of you almost felt like you were preparing an agent to head into a mission again, it was a feeling you hadn't realized you missed. You sighed and looked at her gun. "How good of a shot are you?" 

"Well-" Her voice pitched high, eyes shifting around the room. 

You sighed, fingers pinching at the bridge of your nose in annoyance. It's not _her_ fault she's probably not a good shot, after all you did seek out a hacker, not a sniper, but you were not going to let her go into the field without being prepared. As much as you wanted to throw her straight from the frying pan and into the fire but you knew that would only get her killed. Reluctantly you told her that there was no way she would be going into Talon without some sort of training. She almost seemed embarrassed that you were scolding her for not being prepared enough to go in yet, but you looked around the empty room and chewed at the side of your lip. 

"Go take a few days to finish up whatever business you need to with your own life. Before I send you off to Talon we're going to practice shooting and hand to hand, I need to give you at least some basics before I feel comfortable with you in there."    

"I'll do whatever it takes." She smirked as she stood, holding out her hand to shake.

* * *

 

Sombra left with a wave, jogging out to a rental car parked in the dirt on the side of the road, far from the tree line at the edge of the property. You waited at the gate, watching her with intent until she disappeared over the road's edge. It was a start, a rough one, but it was further than you'd been in months to achieving unrealistic goals. Jack was skeptical of Sombra's involvement in the plan. He'd spent the afternoon listening to you brief her in the kitchen as he hid in the loft above and the last thing he wanted was company for a few days for you to prepare her. He was nervous about her, but you laced your fingers with his and asked for his trust, something both of you were rebuilding after being shaken to the core. Even though he was hesitant to accept, he nodded his head and went along with your insane plan of sending in a stranger.

You then spent the next few days happier than you had in what felt like a lifetime. Alone at the grocery store with a list Jack wrote out you smiled at the usuals who you normally scowled at, there was a skip in your step that warmed your heart and you felt all too smug knowing everyone around town pitied you, but you'd be going home to a man you loved who would cook meals and kiss you until your lips were swollen. You even got bold enough to stop at the seedy shop on the edge of town, picking up something that you'd been thinking about since your commander suggested it long ago, but you hid that away for later. For a few days it was nothing but domestic bliss. Before you'd have to hide him away for days to train Sombra you were going to spend every moment with him you could, and he took full advantage of that. 

He pressed his body to yours at every moment of passing in the hall, hands slipping over your cheek and into your hair before kissing you deep to remind you he was here and he was _real_. In the mornings he would shift under your arms, humming happily as your little spoon and you'd kiss the skin on his shoulders until he flipped around to hold you against him. You'd kiss along the scars across his face and whisper about how handsome he was, soft compliments that made the old man blush harsh against whitening hair. By afternoons he would be done with house duties like moving furniture in the loft and you would use the open space above to catch up on combat training. 

Even though he'd been gone for a year he was still able to put up a fight. The bullet wound quickly healing at his side only slowed him down a little, his grays having no effect on his agility. There were times when he'd pin you to the wood floor, when you'd hear a deep grunt from his chest, that your mind would transport back to the practice rooms on base and you could even see the time you'd tried to punch him in his dumb smirking face, a time when anger drove you and your response to being pinned was to spit on him instead of squirm your hips against his to get a rise.   

The night before Sombra would return, you were cleaning up after dinner. Standing at the sink, minding your own business when Jack's hands were suddenly roaming down your back. You bit back a smile, holding back a noise as he pressed an already aching cock against the back of your pants. You wiggled your hips back against him.

"Can't wait for me to finish the dishes?" You laughed out, looking at him slyly over your shoulder. 

A low moan left him that you took as a no. His hands slid over your sides and hips, thumbs hooking into the edge of your pants and slowly pulling down. You let out a heavy breath at his hand slipping instantly between your legs, fingers testing and prodding. It didn't take much for him to get you going, just a noise, a shift in his step, anything you could pick up on and you'd be aching to have him in you. As you gripped into the edge of the sink two thick fingers slid past your entrance, pushing deep and forcing all the air from your lungs. You only caught your breath long enough to let out an embarrassingly long moan, scraping nails against the metal basin and rolling your eyes in pleasure at the feeling of fingers curling against your walls. Your knees were buckling beneath you, body being held up by the sheer strength of his fingers pumping in and out of you threatening to take you close to the edge. 

"You look so good like this, sweetheart." His voice was a lusty growl, fingers driving in rough, knowing how much you were loving it. 

He teased you, holding his hand out far enough that you were no longer getting the deep sensations he'd built you up to. With a needy whine you circled your hips back against his hand, fucking yourself on his fingers as he quickly worked at undoing the front of his own pants. You were holding on to anything you could, moaning through a bit lip as you fell heavy against swirling fingers.

When he left suddenly, fingers gone leaving you aching and empty, it was only a moment before he was lined with your hips to his. He let out a low chuckle before spanking the side of your ass and sending a hot shiver across your body. 

"What was that for?" You breathed out, pretending to be angry but unable to hide the shaky moan in your voice.

"For shooting me." He laughed and snapped his hips against yours, immediately driving deep and hard into you.  

He hooked one arm down over your hips, the other grabbing hold of the counter edge for support and he lifted you from your feet until your body was lined with his height. The ends of your toes could reach the very edge of the cabinets, but other than his arm at your hips you were solely relying on your arms pushing against the sink to hold yourself up. He pounded into you, his pulsing tip lighting up your nerves with each inch as he rocked himself deeper and you could feel how much he _loved_ manhandling you in a way that made your entire body rely on him.

Your stomach was pushing into the edge of the sink, body pinned between it and Jack. You could hear his smile in his low moans and the kisses he'd place against the soft spot on your neck when he leaned over to fully engulf you. He kept a quick pace, hard and deep with each thrust that made your eyes roll and your body fall further down on him. He knew you loved it when he used you like this, when he made your mind go blank and override with pleasure. You could still feel the opening of his jeans rutting against you with every thrust, something about him wanting you so bad in the heat of the moment and not even managing to get his pants all the way down made your blood run warm and your cheeks flush. He still found little ways to make you feel so desperately wanted.  

He dropped your hips, letting you land on your feet on the floor before driving back into you again making you gasp. As you braced yourself on the edge of the sink, his hand rubbed in small circles over the curve of your ass. 

"Are you sorry for shooting me?" His thrusts were shallower. 

"I'm not convinced you didn't deserve it." You bit your lip anticipating the next slap and when his palm met with your skin it made you shake and moan, driving your hips hard back against him. 

"Sorry yet?" 

"No, sir." You laughed and lazily bounced back. Your thighs twitched with another stinging spank, then another one, and another that had you biting back needy whines. 

"Such a shame, still as stubborn as ever." He sighed and ran his fingers over the growing red spot on your skin. 

Instead of returning with another spank, he fell forward pressing his chest to your back and circling a hand to your front. At your ear he was smiling, breathless chuckles between moans as he played with your clit, swirling and pinching at it until you were pulsing against him. He snapped into you, again and again, relentlessly bringing you over the final edge to a point where you were gasping for air with your mouth hanging open and he was spilling over inside you. You came after him, walls twitching as he pulled from you, body shaking and unable to hold itself up on its own. Even the quick ones, moments of overwhelming lust always ended in reassuring kisses and fingers over sore skin. 

He always whispered how much he loved you, how much he missed you. That's what made it all the harder to banish him to your computer room. 

When Sombra returned just days after she left she was far more prepared. Bags packed, systems updated, she even brought her own first aid kit to patch up any bumps or scratches she would get while training with you. With everything prepared, after a call to the neighbors to give them a heads up that you'd be doing some target practice, and a makeshift bed setup for Jack to lock himself away in the room you showed Sombra to her temporary bed on the couch which she hesitantly placed her things next to, likely knowing the blood stain was sitting beneath just a few layers of blankets- at least you'd scrubbed off the streak on the glass of the front door.   

It was clunky at first, but training her felt like you were falling back into old routines. You'd wake her up early in the morning, listen to her grumble under her breath for a few minutes before you'd get her outside and start each day the way Gabe would do with you: running. You had her run at your side, slowing yourself to her pace so she wouldn't have to keep up with the super solider blood pumping through your veins. Jack would sneak around the house when he knew you had her outside, you tried to put as much space between yourself and the house. You thought she would complain or resist your overbearing training schedule, but she looked determined, angry even, during sessions. She wanted to prove to you she could do this, that you could trust her with the information to infiltrate Talon.   

You felt like a captain again.

You wondered if Gabe would be proud of how quickly you taught her the basics. Jack was, he would whisper how impressed he was with your leadership anytime you snuck into his temporary hide away. He'd hold your face and kiss your cheeks and drown you in little compliments that would make you just want to work harder, to get her out in the field faster. 

Sombra spent just over a week on the farm with you. She never cracked to reveal her true personality, never let down the guard of an annoyed smug hacker, and that was just fine with you. The less you knew about her, the further of a distance you put between yourself and any attachments the more you would be able to handle hearing that Reaper killed her if he ever found out who she was working for. 

The skies were bright blue the day she left, sun peaking through fluffy white clouds. It was the kind of day when Jesse would elbow you and point up to the sky and remind you of his nickname. Sunny days didn't make you feel quite as warm as they used to. A gentle breeze drew your hair across your face as you helped Sombra with her things into her car and ran over the final notes before she drove off into the troughs of a terrorist organization that almost certainly meant her doom.  

"I've sent information on some of the known inner counsel members to you, be sure to read it and destroy it before you get there. Most of them are key players but can be avoided so long as you don't draw attention to yourself. Their basic information is listed for you, names, descriptions, bank accounts, anything I could access. Max is one to keep an eye on. He's sold out his colleges before but still somehow remains as one of the key members. He will try to bribe you, or manipulate you into finding out exactly what you're after. _Never_ tell him the truth about anything, not even insignificant stuff like your favorite color. He'll find a way to use everything you say against you."

"Max is an asshole, next?" 

"Doctor O'Deorain runs the medial section, do not engage with her if you can avoid it. She is known globally for unethical practices of testing on humans and she... can be difficult to really understand. It would just be better to not interact with her at all if possible." You closed the trunk, leaning on the side of the car to give her a final warning. “This isn't _just_ going to be dangerous. If anyone finds out you’re working for me, they will break you. I can’t promise you safety. I can’t promise I’ll be able to rescue you if things go south.”

“Have a little faith in me, I’m sure I can handle it. After all the training we've done I've got anything in the bag.” She was rolling her head, cocky and ready for a fight- you used to be like that once.

“Don't let that get to your head. You have a lot to learn and Talon is going to make sure you learn it hard and fast. You know how to reach me. Good luck, Sombra.” 

“You’ll hear from me soon.” She smiled and her hair on the side of her head twisted around her face in the wind. You really hoped you would, but as your first person being sent in, you had little faith this would actually turn out in your favor. 

“One more thing-” You stopped her from climbing into the car, dropped your voice. With a hand placed on her shoulder and your back turned to the house, afraid Jack might hear you even though you knew he wouldn't be able to, you asked one last thing of her. “Reaper is a monster, a ruthless murderer, and someone you should not fuck around with, but if you ever see anything in him that’s still human please tell me as soon as possible.”

“You say that like you know the man behind the mask.”

“I used to consider him family.” Your heart ached. Perhaps this was a little too heavy to tell someone who was about to go undercover in a terrorist organization for you, you didn’t want her to know all your secrets just yet. Her face seemed to drop, some semblance of understanding spreading on her expression.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll keep my eye on him.” She offered you a small nod, and you thought for a second you finally saw through this Sombra persona to the scared girl who was running headfirst into a minefield.  

You backed away from her with tight smile, arms hugging themselves close to your body before the car sputtered to life and she was backing out on the dirt leaving behind a dusty trail and you standing alone hearing your name being called from the house.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW! Sorry for the long absence! We should be getting back to regular updates now with the event out! Thanks for your patience and love while I worked on this in the meantime! :) <3


	42. Proposals & Invitations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to take down Talon when there's not much to go on, don't you think?

You wished you could stay on the porch swing with Jack forever. 

You wished you could have a nice place to stay where old friends came to visit.

You wished you could spend the rest of your days waving warmly at the neighbors and tending to a barren farm until they were flourishing with life and Jack was digging at your side.

You wished a lot of things. 

Instead of planting corn stalks you were helping Jack build a makeshift tactical visor, reminiscent of his glass as a commander, this mask served as both an aim and a way to hide his face. He managed to get his hands on a custom jacket, one that almost made you burst a seam laughing when you first saw it. Red, white, and blue, the back with a giant '76' written across it he had an almost puppy dog like innocence not understanding why it was so funny to you that a grown man was wearing such bright colors when he was attempting to fly under the radar. Jack was never great at being subtle, but you liked him that way. 

For a while you were biding your time, waiting for intel from Sombra, waiting to get any hits on anyone's names so you could start looking for McCree or try to track down more information on how Talon was handling things after Doomfist took responsibility for the explosion. You'd still sometimes catch yourself watching him with a held breath, afraid he'd stop talking and Tishler's voice would creep over your skin. There was still some part of you that was afraid this was an elaborate fantasy, afraid you'd wake up again on top of a still made bed not knowing what was or wasn't real. Usually it would hit you as you sat across from him eating dinner, or when he took you down particularly hard into the dirt if you were practicing with him. It always ended in you smiling at him and memorizing every detail of his face until he was blushing and watching you back. 

Every day it was becoming easier, the reality of having him back grounding you further to earth. Jack was getting antsy. Being away from combat, staying away when he knew there were people out there he could help was driving him stir crazy. Sometimes late at night hours after you'd fallen asleep, you wake in a dark empty bed only to find him scrolling through endless articles about Talon attacking families and communities. You'd stand in the hallway, staring at the way he chewed his lip and shook his head. He was hung up on the villages on the coast of Germany, Talon was attempting to gain control of every small import dock they could and it was killing him to watch lives be torn apart. 

After a few nights of this you woke with determination one morning, as he was over the stove you packed bags as quickly as you could. Stowing away extra clothes and essentials, hiding weapons and journals, everything you could think of to become a ragtag couple of mercenaries. You emerged into the kitchen decked out in your uniform, mask of broken reflective pieces in hand and a smirk. He raised his brows and almost leaned a hand against a hot burner trying to get a good look at you. 

"I was able to bribe a ground crew worker at the airport, if we can make it there in the next couple hours he'll look the other way so we can sneak onto one of their shipping flights." 

"You haven't been back in the field in over a year. Are you sure you're ready?" He was already turning off the burners, putting back uncooked food and moving to take you in his arms. 

"As long as I have you." You smiled back.

His arms wrapped you in a loving hug, arms you wanted to melt into and stay in, but you knew you had to get going if you were going to make that flight. 

Off you went, masked and ready for anything, an airline worker turned their back pretending not to see as two vigilantes hurried their way up the ramp to the cargo hold of a ship. You settled in with him on the far end of the ship, tucked away together for a long flight over international waters. It was a bumpy ride, boxes shifted around you as you slept against a cold wall leaning on Jack. You were tracking the flight path the entire time, your hacking screen illuminating the hull of the ship long after the sun was gone and you were closing in the country. As the plane was more than halfway over the Atlantic Jack unclasped your hand from his, carefully removing your hand hugging gloves and his fingers circled around the ring on your finger. You turned to him and smiled, biting your lip to hold back a happy giggle. It made your heart jump with glee when he played with the ring.

"I love it, I hope you know. It's perfect." You whispered as you leaned over to kiss his stubble covered cheek. He smiled too. 

Then he was on his feet, grabbing at your hands to pull you up and you stood so fast with his help that your head went light for a moment. He cupped your cheeks, holding your face as he placed a barrage of kisses on your lips until you were a blushing giggling mess. Satisfied, he trailed his fingers down your arms and back into your hands, another final kiss placed on the top of your head before he slowly lowered to one knee in front of you. Even in soft blue light from your hacking screen you could see the absolute happiness radiating from his face. He brought your hand to his lips, quick kisses to your knuckles before moving to the ring itself when he whispered your full name and you pushed out a heavy shaking breath. 

"I have loved you and lost you, and no matter how far apart we've been, no matter how much either of us change, every single day I fall more in love with you. You've made me become a better man, a better version of myself than I ever thought possible, you showed me what true bravery was, what the meaning of family is. I can not imagine a life without you in it, and I will do everything possible to ensure we are never separated again." His voice was shaking and so were you. Your other hand was covering your smiling mouth, happy tears falling from the corners of your eyes. When you first got the ring you never expected you'd get the proposal too. "Now I know we can't exactly make it legal since I'm technically dead and all, but if you would say yes, I'd give anything to marry you." 

"I'm already wearing the ring, silly!" You laughed, lowering to your knees so you were at his height and throwing your arms around his neck. "Of course its a yes Jack." 

You could feel his cheeks burning as he smiled and kissed you. The air was frigid, engines beneath the cargo roaring, but you were the only two people in the world in that moment and all the heat surrounding you was keeping you wrapped in a blanket of happiness. He pressed forward into you with a desperate kiss until your shoulders were to the ground and his hands were holding your back in an arch against him. Through thick combat pants you were rubbing your hips against his, your hands grabbing into soft white hair. Little chuckles left you as his lips moved to your ears, to your neck, and he worked on removing every piece of clothing on you as quickly as he could. 

"Actually, last time I was in town getting groceries I stopped in at the court house." You bit your lip waiting for his response, you weren't expecting to tell him this. When you walked in it was an impulsive move, one you immediately thought was stupid as soon as you stepped foot on massive marble floors leading to a court clerk. He placed hands on either side of your head, pushing himself up to look at you with quizzical eyes and a mouth waiting to kiss you again. "We might not be able to get a marriage certificate, but I can at least change my name. I already have the papers. Just need to sign them."  

"You're too good to me." He smiled and brought you in for another deep kiss. With a little gasp he parted and undid his pants as he placed himself between your now unclothed legs. His smile returned to yours. "Tell me how much you love me, Mrs. Morrison." 

"You're the only one I ever want." You sighed as you felt him teasing his tip slowly up and down your slit. "Without you I'm empty and lonely. There's no one else that could ever make me feel how you do, I love the way your hands feel all over me, I love the way you kiss me and know exactly how I'm feeling. I love your gray hair and all your scars, ahh-!" 

Your breath was knocked out of your lungs as he sank deep, spreading you wide and filling _so_ perfectly. His hand trailed your old scars, fingertips along burn marks from your hips to the top of your ribs then onto your arm. You loved him because he looked at you like you were beautiful. He didn't look to you with pity or with expectations, no harsh empty promises you couldn't keep, no fleeting ties. You loved him because he looked at you with love, absolute unconditional love.

There in the dim lighting of a shipping plane he drove into you again and again as you babbled on about all the ways he made you feel special. He listened patiently, pacing his thrusts with your words, driving you towards the edge until you were a gasping mess and he was covering your neck and chest in needy marks. As he sucked at sensitive skin you pulled on his hair, biting back loud moans with each deep snap into you pushing your shoulders against a cold metal floor. You loved him even as he lost himself in you, even as he bruised your body unintentionally giving you exactly what you asked him for.

You loved him as he kissed at the ring on your finger and finished deep in you.    

You loved him as he helped you back into your clothes. 

You loved him as you brought your mind back to the present and back to the duties at hand. 

You just loved him. 

Once on the ground he led the way to his underground network of mercenaries to gather all the information he could on contracts no one would touch- on the contracts against Talon. Those contracts would lead you to a series of sea side cities, small communities that would have never seen Talon coming. Families and small streets, you'd patrol from rooftops with Jack on ones near an potential next targets, leaving little ways to contact you behind if Talon ever showed up. For a while you were playing catch up, passing through the devastation left behind and avoiding little towns crawling with Talon agents. 

You were chasing a phantom organization that seemed two steps ahead of you. Every few days you'd message Sombra, beg for updates, needing to hear something, anything, that would stop them from attacking another town before you could get to them. Countless nights you spent sleepless and scanning roads for Talon convoys. After long nights you'd move on to the next one, finding grieving communities and distraught survivors. Sometimes you'd help them bury the dead. People who fought back slaughtered with short range shot gun bullets and it was becoming harder and harder to believe Gabe was still in there. You knew what killing with his gun looked like. You saw it up close and personal when he unloaded every clip he had into Tishler in a stark white lab. These deaths were his, and they were his alone. Talon was using him to kill anyone who dared get in their way. 

It was hard to see the destruction he was leaving behind, but harder to know that there was a man deep inside Reaper who didn't want to be doing this. 

There were times you tried to get ahead of Talon, the worst was when you were too late. 

"He's out of control." You breathed out one morning as you held Jack's chest close. He put an arm around you, hiding you from the reality of the outside world, shielding you momentarily from facing the truth. 

"I'm not so sure you'll be able to save him." He whispered back, lips landing in light kisses on the top of your head. 

You were scared. Scared you'd lost Gabriel Reyes forever, but you were also hard hearted and not willing to give up on him just yet. Packing up a small bag of things and moving onto the next town was becoming routine. Introducing yourselves and offering what little protection you could, you were starting to see the same empty look in everyone's eyes, people were losing hope. You were monitoring a port for dark ships operating in the dead of night when it was officially announced. The second omnic crisis was worldwide, and Talon was ensuring they were profiting off the divide between humans and omnics. The second omnic crisis was declared as you were watching black ocean waves hitting rotting wood and it was then that you had an unexpected call.

"This must be important if you're calling me, Moira." You tried to keep your voice down.

"You're being hunted." Her voice was sharp, a whisper with a blade into your ear drum. "That woman, Arntz, she was attempting to steal my super solider serum to use on herself. When I denied her she tried to go behind my back to get it. It appears she believes you are responsible for Cornelius's death. She's gone absolutely delirious it seems." 

"Is she still with Talon?" Your body fell heavy, back resting on the stone siding of a long since abandoned home. 

"She is, but her power is wavering. The other counsel leaders have been attempting to shift the leadership and I know she is one they are trying to push out. I hope you keep a watchful eye out and heed this warning, I am risking a lot to warn you that she is searching for you." Moira clicked her tongue and huffed out a frustrated breath. 

"I will. I appreciate it, Moira. Really." You were biting your lip behind your mask, eyes now darting from this direction to that wondering if Arntz would pop around any corner. Your stomach clenched in on itself. She was trying to make herself stronger, faster, _better_ than you. You were the only thing left she could be angry at. Now that Jack was assumed dead, now that you'd helped Tishler end in a reign of bullets, there was a spotlight pointed directly towards you for being the source of all her problems. You were her villain. Moira shifted on the other end of the call and you caught your breath in a wind of confidence. "Listen I know you probably can't stay on with me too long, but I need to know. How is he?" 

Name left unspoken, she hesitated to answer. 

"Not well." Somehow her voice was even quieter, a soft undertone of shame carried beneath it. "He has moments of clarity, but I believe his military instincts are the only thing keeping him somewhat sane at this point. He's a wonderful commander, but it's been difficult to watch him no longer recognize me, or himself at times." 

"Shit." Your voice was shaking. 

"He's dangerous and doesn't want to be helped." Bitter words from a bitter woman. "It's best if you keep as far away from him as possible." 

If only she knew you were on his trail along the German coast.  

"Stay safe, Moira." You choked out. Why did this hurt so bad? You knew he was worse for wear. You knew he'd been killing with reckless abandon and showing no remorse for it. Your thoughts were overwhelming you and you were starting to breathe heavy.

That call left you hallow. You didn't want to think about Gabe losing his mind in the halls of the Talon base. You couldn't think about Moira pumping him full of chemicals to keep him alive. You couldn't think about it, or about anything. Instead you cast your eyes to the waters, focusing in on the noise of harsh waves meeting man made structures. Even though you were afraid, even though you had doubts about the future, you sought comfort in the one person you wanted, the one person who would stick at your side no matter what. You weren't going to let that knowledge stop you. You clung to Jack and helped who you could along the coast. Rebuilding burned down homes of families that lost their battle against Talon. Offering promises to shattered communities that you'd hold those responsible for their heartache accountable.

You saw more death than you ever cared to in that time and it slowly bothered you that seeing it no longer had an effect. You were numb to what Gabe was doing.

Those days were not your fondest memories, but they held some that would stick with you forever. 

A month in, you and Jack were making your way up a morning foggy seaside. It was morning, the sun was blocked with gray heavy skies and you were both exhausted. Weeks of no guarantee that you'd have a bed at night, of not using your own accounts so you wouldn't tip off anyone just in case you were being tracked- it was hard. Harder than just being undercover. You were completely off the grid. Even though it was harder on you physically than any other mission you'd had before, you were enjoying every moment with him. Soaking in every second of having Jack back in your life. You would smile at him when you had a few moments alone, would stifle your moans when he'd pin you to the side of a building on quick stops- a rarity as you moved from place to place. 

That morning you stopped to eat what little you had for breakfast and sat with him in cold sand overlooking gray ocean waters. It was there that he took your hand again, that he brought you to your feet and dropped down to a knee for the second time. His body was sinking into soft sand, his bright blue eyes cutting through a dense mist that tingled over your skin. You smiled, cheeks flushing in embarrassment and a smile laced with disbelief spreading across your face- there was no way he'd do this again. 

"You are the strongest most incredible woman I have ever met. Your determination and dedication to doing what you think is right has led me to only improve myself everyday. All I've ever wanted is to make you proud, I hope I'm making you proud, sweetheart." He brought your ring to his lips again, kissing at the thin band of white and black diamonds twisting together. You bit your smile, he knew your answer, he knew he didn't have to keep asking, but he was trying to make up for lost time. "I know our lives have been full of ups and downs, I know you're still dealing with things you wish you weren't, but I need you to know that I will stand by your side no matter what life throws at us. You are my world and I will follow you to hell and back if I have to. I love you, so damn much. I love you. Would you do me the honor of being my wife?" 

"Absolutely." You cried out before he buried you in a hug and a kiss that stole your breath away. "I love you." 

You took him again. This time with sand and rocks digging into your skin, with moans of his name and his former title leaving your lips. He loved having you when you were on an emotional high, loved feeling how needy and mouthy you were when you wanted him to just get on with it. He could ask you a thousand times and each time you'd yell 'yes' again and again, you'd write 'yes' into his skin and kiss 'yes' into his neck. 

He teased you over and over that time, pushing just his tip in before pulling away leaving you aching and empty.

"Will you marry me?" He was breathing hard, tip waiting at your entrance and a smirk on his lips. Trying to get a rise from you, trying to make you beg, but you grabbed fist fulls of sand and whined into arms at your face. 

"Yes, Jack." You'd sigh. 

"Will you marry me?" He'd ask again buried deep in you after making you cry out in pleasure.

"Fuck, Jack! Yes, yes I will!" 

He was having too much fun, bringing you to the edge again and again, only to pull away and stop you from spilling over so he could ask you to marry him once more. You'd try to roll your body against his, try to take control so you could catch the release you were chasing after but he'd just smile and kiss you and ask. 

"Will you marry me?" He was so damn happy.  

"Just you wait, Jack Morrison." You threatened as he thrusted hard enough into you to make you see stars, goading a response from you. "When we get back home you'll regret teasing me. I'll be doing the same thing to you."

"Sure, sweetheart." He dropped his head back and ran calloused hands over the stomach of your skin with a deep moan. He loved this. He loved having you like this. 

You were gasping as he pounded you into the soft ground. Your eyes fluttering at the thought of making him come to pieces with the toy you'd picked up out in the town. You held your tongue, biting back the urge to tell him at the first chance you got you'd be returning this favor. Your nerves lit with a familiar warmth at the thought of pinning him to the side of the bed, of working him open enough to take your toy. You wanted to see him falling apart as you snap your hips against his and flick a wrist to work him. Now that you had him back, you wanted all of him and you wanted him to know you had all of him.     

You came around him, with legs twisting tightly at his waist, with thoughts of a home life where nothing else mattered dancing in your head. His lips all over your skin, kisses and little bites roaming over ones he'd already left you with and you couldn't help but feel that all you ever wanted was more of him. When he was done and the world was stilled again, he stayed in you, soft and leaking against your thighs you held him in place so you could kiss the end of his nose and look into unbelievable blue eyes. He bit back a wide smile, pressing his forehead to yours and gripping fingers into the sand beneath you, whispering little affirmations of all the ways you make him happy as you ran fingers down his spine. 

You wished you could spend forever laying in the rocky sandy shore and kissing him in the shade, but duty called and before you could process it you were off to another village, to another distraught family putting domestic thoughts behind you. 

Between towns and stakeouts you finally decided to look through the massive pile of messages, emails, texts, everyone trying to reach you and slowly but surely you sorted through them. In a shack of a hideaway house, during an usual moment of quiet to yourselves, something unusual caught your eye in your inbox. Piled between spam emails was one message that you read over and over again. 

They were opening a museum, an _Overwatch_ museum.

It would have artifacts and stories of the things and people who survived after the buildings fell. It was opening at the end of the month. They wanted you and any other surviving agents there on opening day for a private tour and a press event. You bounced a leg as you read it over and over again, thinking they probably wanted you there for the same reason they wanted you at Jack's funeral- good publicity. Your stomach was shifting, a feeling growing that you weren't sure if you were ready to face anything that had to do with Overwatch just yet. Jack leaned over to read it after seeing the distant look on your face, eyes reading it before he gently touched at the inside of your wrist.

“You should go.” He kissed your shoulder.

“I haven’t-” Your voice caught in your throat. “Jack I didn’t even go to your funeral. I haven't been in front of cameras in a long time.”

“You won’t be alone. Other agents, old friends, people who care about you will be there. Screw the press. Go just to see what they have, and to let everyone know that you're okay. It seems like a lot of people are worried about you." 

He was right, but that didn't stop you from biting at your nail and thinking of every little thing that could go wrong just by showing your face. You let out a long breath and chewed at the inside of your cheek. Seeing friendly faces instead of grieving ones sounded like a nice change of pace. Seeing familiar things, relics from a not so long ago past tempted you more than you’d like to admit.

Maybe Lena or Winston would be there, seeing them sounded nice.

“If I go to the opening, we should head home first. I don’t think it’d be wise to show up anywhere crawling with press dragging around a vigilante uniform and a dead man.”

That made him laugh and rest his head on your shoulder.

“I think we need to give ourselves a break from chasing Talon anyway. We’re no closer than when we started. It might be better if we just wait for more info from that hacker of yours.”

“Yeah.” Your voice was soft and dropping off. “Yeah, I guess so.”

If this was an Overwatch mission, it would be a failure. You helped people, but you didn’t accomplish what you wanted. You were no closer to getting Gabe back, or taking down Talon than you were when you first got here. Your mind wrote up it's own mission report, critiques and flaws in the planning riddled throughout. It was more difficult than you thought it would be to stop thinking like an agent. 

You should go to the opening. You bit your lip and decided, you _would_ go to the opening. The thought of leaving Jack at home while you pretended like he was buried six feet beneath the ground in a military graveyard flipped your stomach though. Something sick was creeping in the back of your throat, a little voice, _Tishler’s voice,_ threatening that when you came back Jack wouldn’t be there. It wasn’t real. You couldn’t hear him, his voice was just a horrible feeling, a reminder of your choices haunting you.  

“You’ll be okay. I promise.” He moved his head gently, lips landing lazy kisses on the top of your shoulder. It would be okay. He would still be there. He wasn't going anywhere. 

* * *

 

You tried to sleep on the flights back home, but even when you could lay down with your head in Jack's lap in the back of a cargo plane you still couldn't sleep. Instead your mind was preoccupied with worry about what you would say to reporters, what you would say to old friends, you concentrated on your reaction to their condolences, to fleeting questions about the deaths of two commanders who were very much not dead. Jack spent the time in the air telling you stories about some of his mercenary trips, the dangers and horrors he put himself through to get back home to you as he combed fingers through your hair. Some of the details he left vague, ones that were probably for the best, vague the same way you were about killing Talon agents under Gabe's watchful eyes. 

Jack was practically dragging you into the house by the time you made it back, exhaustion and metal will feigning it was a race to see if you'd get to the bed or pass out on the wood floors first. Handling flights, especially after long times away from home, was never your strong suit. Without a shower, without even so much as a goodnight, you collapsed against the edge of the bed and curled into your pillow, only to wake up when the sun was high in the sky and hearing Jack moving clothes from the washer to the dryer. He must have heard your groggy groaning, you shifted beneath sheets and found he'd changed you into an old tshirt of his, leaving you to sleep the day away. 

"Morning." He smiled into the room. "It's 3pm." 

"My shoulders hurt." You blurted out. He sat himself on the edge of the bed, sinking the side before massaging a hand on the tops of your shoulders.

"Did you sleep weird?" His fingers worked at hard knots beneath your skin making you groan. 

"No, they get like that sometimes if I don't move them around for a while. Started after the whole... null sector ordeal." You felt weirdly guilty for bringing it up again. That incident still carried a weight between you that you never wanted to address again. 

"I can help you with some stretches for that. Glenn also invited us over for dinner tonight if you feel up to it, I don't want to push you if you're not feeling it though." 

You rotated sore shoulders before reaching for gray stumble on his chin and running your nails through it. His face lifted as you touched him, a little nuzzle against your palm that made your skin warm. 

"That actually sounds pretty good."

He seemed surprised but buzzed with excitement that you would join them and you spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready for dinner with them. It was a short walk to their house, across dirt and over a fence into grassy fields until you reached their modest home. Glenn stood with his omnic partner out front, welcoming you in.   

"Glenn, Eden, glad to see you're both doing well." Jack shook their hands and guided you in with a hand to your lower back. 

"Happy you both could make it. It's been a long time since we've had you over and we're excited to get to know you a little more." Glenn grinned at you, a warm smile that you just knew you could trust. "Come on in, we already have dinner ready. Eden may not be able to enjoy it the same way we do, but they're a hell of a cook." He placed a big kiss to the omnics cheek, setting off little pink lights on the side of Eden's face. 

Eden ushered you in and offered pleasantries, drinks and your choice of a seat at the table. Dinner started with a nice conversation, reminiscent memories of Jack as a teenager leading to talk about his family. You could feel it from the way Glenn spoke about them that he considered the Morrison's family, and it was a strange realization that in some way he also considered you part of that too. Talk of his adolescence led to him joining the military and to the time Glenn spent helping Jack's father with the farm, the conversation was easy up until the omnic war was mentioned and suddenly the air turned sour. All at once Glenn looked like he’d been through the wringer, Eden sat quietly at his side with a hand resting over his.

“We thought we were done with this shit, Johnny.” He finally said with a fork full of green beans hovering in front of his mouth, eyes shifting to the omnic who although wasn't physically emoting worry, you could feel the tension between them. “Second omnic crisis my ass. Wasn’t one war to fight in enough? What's even the point of the first one if we're have to go through this again? Why the hell does anyone care about this is beyond me, we're just trying to make it through life like anyone else is. World’s not as progressive as I thought it’d be by now. Damn idiots. Doin’ this when they know Overwatch isn’t there to fight back. It’s cowardly is what it is-” 

“Look at them dear, I don’t think they want to hear about the crisis anymore.” Eden squeezed Glenn's hand, lights on the side of their face cycling through blues and yellows. "I'm sure they're not just sitting back and letting this happen." 

"We're doing what we can." Your voice was small, Jack's hand landing on the height of your thigh and rubbing fingers against jeans as you looked to him unsure what else to say. "They can try to take us down. We'll keep fighting, no matter what, Jack and I won't rest until we've done everything we can." 

"Spoken like a true solider." Glenn said finally stuffing his mouth and chowing down. He chuckled and pointed his fork at you, seemingly trying to lighten the weird mood. "I like you, you know that? She's a good one Johnny. Looks like she can whoop your ass if she wants to." 

"Oh I can." You gave Jack a smirk that he knew was trouble. 

"I'd like to see you try." His voice purred before cheeks flushed and he realized suggestive flirting wasn't quite appropriate for the dinner table. Eden's face lights returned to a soft pink before they offered to collect empty dishes and take them to the kitchen. Jack cleared his throat and held his hands tightly in his lap. "Anyways, thanks again Glenn for keeping all this a secret. I know it's a burden and I really do wish you'd let me compensate you in some way-" 

"I already told you I don't want your money, boy. Just... all I can ask is that we don't have to live through this shit again. I don't think I'll make it through another crisis." Glenn, the always friendly neighbor now looked more weathered than you'd ever realized. His worry lines obvious from years of watching war at his doorstep, bags beneath eyes that saw a world change in front of him, a smile that was beat down but still across his face from a love he probably never expected. Suddenly the world in the chaos of another crisis seemed so personal. 

"We don't want it any more than you do." Jack sighed and sat back in his chair. 

You stayed through a fruity dessert, through more conversation until the sun was setting and you'd been there for hours just talking. With polite waves and warm send offs you set off back towards your house. The sun was deep behind the mountains, sky a brilliant blue and purple. With Jack’s hand in yours, fingers loosely laced together you hopped the fence and followed a path of your own making in the dirt fields towards the house.

"Glenn's a pretty passionate guy." You mused as you wondered about what kind of life a farmer in Indiana must have lived through the first omnic crisis. 

"I'm glad he likes you. He would never approve of anyone my parents wouldn't have, so it's almost like I have their blessing." Light wind was kicking up dust around you, but that didn’t stop him from looking at you as if you were the most beautiful thing in the world. He slowed his step, had this little smile on his face and you just knew in your gut it was happening again, but you rolled your eyes and offered him a bit smile as he lowered again to his knee.

“You really don’t have to keep doing this, Jack.” Your cheeks lit with heat as he kissed once more at the ring on your finger.

“Just one more time.” He breathed out and lifted soft eyes to meet yours.

“Okay, one more.” You laughed.

“Since the day I first met you I knew there was something special. The way you smiled at me made my heart beat like crazy, and I think a part of me always knew from that moment I’d be chasing you forever. You're so determined and you put passion into everything you do. Even way back then, you had this fire in you that I wanted to have in my life. I know things used to be rocky, at best, between us. I can’t even begin to explain my regrets in the way I treated you, in the choices I made that hurt you-”

“Jack-” Your heart dropped.

“I think about the pain I’ve caused you every time I see your scars, but I have only let that drive me to become a better man, someone who you would be proud to call your husband one day. Watching you conquer your fears, seeing you become the most amazing woman I’ve ever known has been the biggest honor of my life, and I can’t put into words how thankful I am that you gave me a second chance when you in no way should have. Gabriel told me that I didn’t deserve you, and he was right, but I’m so happy you're willing to stick with this old man and do things that seem completely impossible. I want to grow old with you right here, on this farm. I want to see your gray hairs and smile lines come in. I want to prove to the whole world that we can be happy despite the terrible things we've lived through. I promise you, no matter what comes, no matter how hard or scary life gets, I will be by your side. I will hold you up and bandage over countless bullet holes until we're both old and senile. I am so absolutely deeply in love with you that it hurts to even think about ever being separated from you again. I-I'm sorry, I know I'm not supposed to be the one getting emotional while doing this-" He was crying, wiping happy tears against the back of your hand as you were holding back stomach jumping cries. "I just love you. Plain and simple, I love you. I wished I could have done this before I lost you for a year, but _I love you,_ and would you, Mrs. Morrison, marry me?" 

"Of course, you cornball." You sobbed and dropped to your knees to hug him as tight as you could. "I love you so much Jack Morrison. Of course I'd love to marry you." 

He kissed you, so softly but so deep that you couldn't tell whose tears were whose. Instead of pulling your clothes off he lifted you, hoisting you in the air and carrying you bridal style as you exclaimed in surprise. He continued to kiss at your cheeks, kissing at your nose and eye lids, carrying you away to the house and kicking up dirt behind him. You held on tight, giggling and pressing your face to the side of his, whispering how much you loved him. He was clumsy getting you into the house, maneuvering you in the door but awkwardly misjudging how much space he had and your feet ended up catching on a side table toppling it over. 

He quickly brought you down, letting you stand on your own and helping you clean up the mess. He picked up a small package, rising an eyebrow in question. 

"Someone already sent us a wedding present?" He was joking, but his voice filled with genuine concern. Your eyes fell to a small box sent to you just a month after you'd moved in here addressed to a 'Mrs. Morrison'. 

"Oh, no I never opened that. When I was still shutting everything out I refused to open anything I got." He handed it to you, leaning back to watch you carefully tear it open. As soon as you touched it, your stomach dropped and you immediately wished you’d thrown it into the nearest fire. Inside was an orb, metal and smooth fitting perfectly in the palm of your hand, as soon as you touched it a projected message appeared in the air before your face.

It was an invitation.

_Mrs. Morrison,_

_We’re all deeply saddened to hear about the explosion at Overwatch headquarters. It’s such a shame you and the strike commander weren’t able to marry before the recent unfortunate events, I always thought you two made a very handsome couple.When you are ready, please contact me, I have an open position on my team for someone with exactly your skill set. I understand my former colleague had attempted to recruit you in more barbaric manners, I would like to personally apologize for his behavior and do hope you will not hold it against us for one individual's doing. I understand you may need time to grieve, but do not let a tragedy as this be your downfall. You are not alone out there and I can make you a promise that my team will take special precautions to ensure you are comfortable, you would be treated as the captain you always should have been at Overwatch._

_Take your time, but do not waste it. You can be a valuable asset and it would be a shame to let your talent go unused over a thing such a death._

_Call me when you’re available, we can discuss salary and other benefits._

_Maximilian_   

Your eyes glossed over, grip on the ball no longer holding and it clattered to the floor with loud bouncing thuds drawing Jack’s undivided attention. You thought back to when you first got the package and hid it away from yourself. That slimy omnic monster. He was trying to manipulate you, trying to play on your emotions and your vulnerability into being drawn towards working for Talon. He really thought he could get you, and if you had opened this when you got it, he just might have. 

"Fuck Talon." You growled. 


	43. Shut Up And Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little time alone on the farm before you're off to the museum opening.

Waiting for news was killing you. You were so restless that you started taking up any hobby to occupy your mind.

The first was hours poured into learning how to hand sew. Jack would pass you sitting with your knees to your chest in your computer chair, staring intently at a video on all the different types of stitches that are best for types of fabric and pleasing patterns. You clumsily worked your fingers through squares of cloth, pushing needles through with bright colored string, each time wondering if Gabe would be proud of your sewing. Sometimes you'd have to bury your face in the cloths, too overwhelmed with the regret of being in his room all those nights and never asking him to teach you. Jack would find you with pin pricks in your fingertips and tears in your eyes and kiss at your fingers until you were smiling again. 

Then it was a sunny afternoon when he wandered to the porch and you were hammering together flower boxes to hang off the porch railings. He watched for a moment then turned back into the house, only to emerge again when you were fastening the boxes onto the railings. You pushed your hair from your face, lazily letting a hammer in your hand wave around as you squinted to see him in the shadow of the porch. He was holding out a glass cup, shaking the glass just a little to make the ice cubes clink around.  

"Is that pink lemonade?" You laughed, reaching out for it. "Thanks." 

"Of course, sweetheart." He sat on the porch swing, eyes overlooking a dirt field he'd been working on to grow at least enough for the two of you. "What kind of flowers are you going to plant?" 

"Daffodils." You replied after a long drink. "I think the yellow on them will look good against the blue when we repaint the house."

The yellow would be a good contrast to his eyes, too. You needed something to breakup the colors on the place. Dirt brown fading into chipped blue paint against a bright blue sky, you'd spent days scrolling through all the strains of flowers you could get down at the nursery. Jack sipped his own drink and pushed himself back on his heels, swaying the porch swing in the warm breeze. Between nails on the flower box you'd look to him, study the way his scars laid against his face and wonder about the contrast of his hair against his eyes. White. You'd paint the railings and the flower boxes white. 

A storm was rolling in high over the Indiana skies the day you planted the flowers, you finally got a message from Sombra. Jack came sprinting out of the house with your screen in hand and skin even more pale that usual. He looked shell shocked, eyes searching your face for an explanation as you took the screen from him to read what she had to say.  

 **S:**  Still alive. You were right, they're kicking my ass. Found out more on inner council, lots of fighting, Doomfist has been removed. I'm being called for a special mission tomorrow here's all of the info I could get about my new team. Check in again soon. 

Beneath, the first file opened held the ID picture for a women who looked both familiar and horrifyingly unfamiliar. You dropped a tray of daffodils, stems and roots scattered at your feet with yellow petals drooping into the dirt. Throat caught as you touched the virtual face you head felt like it was going to float away. Purple skin, cold eyes, Amélie Lacroix was staring into the lens and all parts of her identity had been erased- instead of a name all she got was _Widowmaker_. The last you'd heard of her was chasing Tishler, her name written in cursive appearing on the tag of a red rose to mock your failure. There were many things you thought may have happened to her, but her specialty listing her as Talon's highest ranking sniper was never one that crossed your mind.

"Her name." Jack's voice was strained. "Do you think-"

"I can't think about that." You cut him off, voice unsteady as your heartbeat. You couldn't think about it. You couldn't think about your own skin tinting the same color under Moira's drugs, you couldn't look at the way her veins made little honeycomb patterns up the side of her neck. You couldn't bear to think about what Gabe must feel seeing the wife of his dead friend under the control of such a terrible organization. You absolutely would not allow yourself to think about it.

You were scrolling through the names, through this specialized team. Amélie would be their long range, watching their mission from afar with a sniper rifle. Sombra was going in as their hacker, an obvious choice. There was a combat medic,  Jean-Baptiste Augustin who's file seemed too clean to be true. What caught your eye however, was their close range and leader was Reaper himself. You almost fell to the ground, his file while mostly redacted, listed him as a Talon council leader and commander of their troops. It also listed him as unstable and prone to violent outbursts, which made your knees weak.  

"Sombra's in way over her head." You breathed in shock. "She's going to die out there." 

Jack circled an arm at your shoulders, pulling you close. You stumbled into him, shoes crushing bright yellow flowers into dirt and letting the screen clatter to the ground. He hugged you tight, holding you as close as ever with unstoppable kisses firing away at the top of your head. 

"That could have been you." His voice was _scared_. "What happened to Lacroix, that could have been you and I would have never seen it coming." 

You shoved him away without thinking about it, flashes of Tishler threatening to make you a sleeper agent blinding your eyes. You could still feel his needle digging into your skin, could still feel his stare, you could feel his voice like a tattoo on your ear drums and it just about made your stomach jump from your throat that _this_ is what he would have done to you. On the ground your screen was cracked from the fall, Amélie's soulless eyes staring back at you and you hunched over to stare back. It was a little comfort, but you told yourself maybe she really couldn't feel the pain of being tortured like you had- possibly worse. You tried to imagine she wasn't able to feel the wracking guilt of killing her own husband and being forced to work the organization that demanded his death. She was alive at least. Her quality of life however, was up for debate. With a drawn out breath you typed out a message on a broken screen.   

Report anything you find on both Widowmaker and Reaper. Stay safe and smart, Sombra. Keep a level head and you'll be okay. **:L**

Only half of the flowers were planted, the others dropped and ruined in the harsh dirt. Jack moved your hair from your face, rough fingers running over your face and he tried to soften his eyes. You wanted to cry, eyes watering as you stared down at the flowers blaming an outburst of emotions on dropping them, but he knew you better than that.  

"Rains coming, let's head inside."  

* * *

While you waited for the museum opening you tried to teach yourself a bit of baking so you could repay Jack's cooking with desserts. He was too nice, plastering on a pained smile as he ate cookies you forgot to add sugar to. He encouraged you when your cupcake frosting tasted more like dust. By the fourth try at chocolate chip cookies he was supervising you in the kitchen, double checking all your ingredients (triple checking behind your back), pretending to help you mix when in reality he was doing all the work himself. He still make you happy, even through the burned sides of cakes, he still make you feel like you could do anything. Even covered in flour and sweaty from hand mixing batter he still threw you over his shoulder and hauled you off to the bedroom to remind you how perfect you were for him.

Rain was hitting the sides of the house hard the night you slapped his ass extra hard as you passed him in the hall between rooms and he gave you a devilish smirk as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you close. 

"You trying to get rough?" His voice dropped low.

You instantly felt a heat in you, you felt a twinkle of something that made him blush and step back.

You weren't waiting for any particular time to fuck Jack's brains out with the toy you bought, but _right then_ seemed like a perfect opportunity. 

"Could you handle me getting rough, Morrison?" You threatened. He was blushing bright red, deep across his cheeks and spreading quickly to his ears. You grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the back of the house, taking him to the bedroom and pushing him to the bed before you disappeared into the closet where you'd hid a toy away from him.  

"You sure you want to do this?" His voice was breathless, but you heard his zipper dropping. 

"Only if _you_ do." 

"I definitely do, but it's uh, it's been a while since I've done anything like this. You'll need to be gentle, at first." 

You were adjusting straps around your hips, moving a bright blue jelly like dick to the front of a harness. You let out an unintentional laugh as it hit your thigh, the feeling bizarre and new but not entirely off putting. When you walked out, you leaned heavy on the door frame, emulating the way he used to when he'd stare at you waiting for him, and you gestured a hand to your removable body part. You felt ridiculous, blushing like a crazy person, but seeing his smile made it worth it. He chuckled at your laughing as you wiggled your hips and the toy went slapping between thighs. 

"Having fun?" Butt naked, he was laughing as he waited on the edge of the bed enjoying the show. Beneath him he'd laid out a ratty old blanket neither of you cared much about, readying for a mess if there was going to be one.   

"It's strange." You laughed. "You'll need to tell me if I'm doing this right because I'm a little outside of my forte here, Jack."

"Come here." He gestured for you to stand between his knees and he kissed you soft and long before moving his mouth down your body stopping just before the straps at your hips. "Start with a finger, you'll need lube. A lot of it." 

With that he pushed himself back on the bed. You watched as he laid on his back, his hard stomach muscles pulsing with anticipating breaths as you gently pushed his legs apart. You couldn't help but kiss at his knee, following up his thigh until your face was between wide legs. He held back a nervous laugh as you squeezed out a generous amount of lube on fingers and twisted them to push between his cheeks. You watched his face carefully, gauging his reaction as you carefully pushed a finger against tight muscle until it gave way and you slowly sank in. He was a blushing squirming mess, one of his hands curling as a fist into the blanket below and his mouth hanging open in a small gasp. Immediately you realized how warm he was around your finger, something that he'd always whispered dirty things about but you didn't quite understand until you were feeling it for yourself.

With a few pumps of your finger you already had him moaning and nothing made you feel quite the way hearing him like that did. As you pushed in a second finger you run the thumb of your other hand up his hardening length, roaming over a pulsing tip and back down until your fingers in him were carefully scissoring and working him open. He was rolling those gorgeous blue eyes of his, whispering your name as if you were in trouble, but you could see how his body reacted when you pushed harder and harder into him.

Through multiple rounds of checking to make sure he was ready, you finally pulled fingers from him and clumsily lined the tip of your toy against him. He was breathing hard, his cock twitching into the air desperate for more and you were more than happy to give him what he wanted. He scooted down against the edge of the bed so you could stand on the floor, his legs spread as wide around you as he could get them and he let out the longest curse you'd ever heard leave his lips as you sank the toy as deep as it would go. Once it was in, once you were pressed flushed to his hips you leaned heavy over him with a wicked smirk.

"What was it you said to me the first time we slept together?" You kissed his jaw, his face lost in pure pleasure. "I'm pretty sure it was, 'think you can handle me?', does that sound right?" 

He opened his mouth to reply but you snapped into him, hard, riding against the very spot that made him see white. You slowly straightened your back so you were standing tall above him, your hands holding his legs open for you and with all the pent up sexual frustration you had watching him like this, you had your hips rolling into him just like he always did to you. Jack was always a passionate guy, but seeing him like this, completely lost in it was on a whole different level for you. You could see every expression change when you hit his prostate, you relished in the moans that came from deep in his chest and the way he pushed his hips against yours. 

Then you slid your hands up, one to his abs pressing on his stomach, the other gripping around a needy cock and moving in time with your thrusts. His body jerked and he snapped his head up, eyes meeting yours in a delirious state.      

"I'm going to cum if you keep doing that!" He panted, seemingly not realizing that you were enjoying getting him off this way far more than you'd ever thought you would. "Fuck-" He sighed as you smirked and continued deep thrusts with hard tugs. 

You don't know how long he lasted, but you know it wasn't nearly as long as you normally did. You were still going even though your legs were burning, hips tightening from the excessive movements, wrist stiffening from working him over and over again but you never wanted to keep going as hard as you were before in your life. You could feel him throbbing in your hand right before he came, he was gritting his teeth and lifting his hips on his final troughs before unintentionally releasing as you were pumping him and he came across his chest, across the ratty blanket and twitched some more as he came until he was exhausted and his body was sinking hard into the bed. 

"Get that thing off of you-" He demanded with lazy hand motions and long breaths. "And get up here." 

He was chuckling to himself as he pointed to his face. You rolled your eyes, too turned on to care that he was basically delirious as you dropped the strap on and climbed over him to part your thighs over his face. You thought he'd be too tired, thought he'd be lazy after that, but instead he held your legs down against his head, wrapping hands to keep you firmly in place and he immediately went to working between your legs with his mouth. He mumbled something, you think about how wet you were, but you were trying hard to catch your own breath as he brought you to a high with his tongue. You curled your fingers into his white hair, pulling at it as you balanced yourself and that only made him go harder until your thighs were shaking and twitching for him. With knowing teases to your clit, careful pushes of his tongue against you, he was able to send you over as you circled hips against his face. 

In the afterglow you laid with him on a ruined blanket, chests rising with heavy breaths and sweat on your foreheads and he looked more relaxed than he had since he first came back. You twisted your hips, popping exhausted bones before flipping around to lay a hand over his stomach and run through gray hairs. 

"I-" He let out a low chuckle. "I actually don't remember saying that you, the first time we slept together." 

"Yeah? Well I do." You smiled. 

"I remember that you wouldn't let me kiss you." He turned to face you with a smile on his lips, but his eyes in need of sleep. "I was devastated."

"Can you blame me? We used to hate each other." You kissed the soft skin of his shoulder, lips dragging at the edge of a long scar. "You can kiss me anytime you want now. I love you, Jack Morrison." 

His hand laced with yours over his stomach, fingers gliding over your ring and he spun it around with a happy hum. The piano song, a soft tune he played you in a dark wood hotel lobby, a song that told you exactly how much he loved you. 

* * *

It was time to go. Leaving without Jack took every ounce of power in your gut, all you wanted to do was slam the car door shut and run back in the house straight into his arms but you knew you had to do this. As you drove away, you turned back to look at him. Dirty jeans and red baseball hat on he was leaning over the railing on the porch waving you off above flower boxes filled with yellow daffodils and you were trying not to cry like a child all the way to the airport. The logical part of you knew he would still be there when you got back, you knew you could call the house and talk to him, but separating from him again just felt _wrong_.

As always, you couldn't sleep on the flight in. Instead you spent it overlooking big white clouds over far away land, wondering if anyone you loved was roaming the grounds below. Over the ocean it was nighttime, endless black kept you awake with paranoid thoughts about the reflection of the window looking all too much like Gabe's eyes and you had to snap the sun cover down. You tried to read up on the event as much as you could. Overwatch was sponsoring the museum, all the artifacts inside held at evidence facilities across the globe that didn't get destroyed in the explosion. Many agents denied the invitation but not many were even invited in the first place, something you noted even after seeing Overwatch was footing the bill for every single person to be flown out, staying in their own hotel room, and covering all expenses while they were attending. 

As you were brought to the hotel, you couldn't help but notice there was a heightened security around both the museum itself and the hotel which the Overwatch agents were staying. Checking in you found they’d already assigned each person to a room. They had you on the second highest floor, overlooking a city skyline. A room with a single bed, there was nothing notable about the room itself other than the uniform for the opening ceremony the next day that was hanging in cheap plastic. You stared at the outfit hanging rigid and dark against gray paneling of the hotel walls, it was almost an exact replica of your formal uniform. It was almost your formal blues but the blue was just a little off, the buttons sewn in a little lazy, stitching holding it together looked like it had been done in hurry- you were pretty sure even with your limited skills you could have done a better job putting the thing together. There were no metals, no pins, or hat, but you did run your fingers along one detail that told you they put some thought into selecting your uniform. Worst of all, they gave you a skirt uniform instead of pants like you used to have. They wanted you picture perfect for the ceremony, it seemed. 

You sighed as you looked to the colors. On the right arm was the Overwatch symbol- a patch pressed on. The left was a black band to tie around, the Blackwatch symbol sitting heavy in the middle. It would be the only piece to show your failed work with that side of organization, your sole reminder that your family was no longer here to protect you, that Gabe was no longer the man you knew and was off somewhere else in the world committing unforgivable acts.

You weren't ready for this. You weren't ready to see familiar faces, to have conversations you could never prepare for. The next day they expected you to get dressed up like a perfect little puppet and pretend like you were happy to be here, but you weren't sure if you would be able to fake it. 

Instead you shrugged on a sweatshirt a few sizes too big for you, making sure to cover your scars, making sure the hood could hide your face. Jeans and running shoes, a badge around your neck, you made your way through the hotel and down the street to the museum for a preview night open only to former Overwatch agents.  

The main hall was breathtaking. It was enormous, sleek white floors held gigantic pieces that you couldn't even begin to fathom logistically how they managed to get in the building. The main hall was mostly the large stuff, the remains of a rocket they'd used for a mission to the moon, the early gigantic prototype of crusader armor for Reinhardt, massive machines with guns used during the first omnic war, and statues, so many god damn statues. You wandered towards one that looked vaguely familiar, it loomed over you, shiny with the sunset from skylights bouncing off the metal used to build it. A giant metal Jack was staring down at you, his commander smirk carved in and you almost wanted to laugh. They never got his hair right. 

The further you walked the more it became apparent this was a testimony to how great Overwatch was for the world. Pieces upon pieces of successful missions, artifacts sitting out that agents lost their lives for but went unmentioned in the descriptions, and yet nothing mentioned the explosion. Nothing about Talon, nothing about the people who suffered because of Overwatch's interventions. This was a place for the former directors to stroke their own egos, to point out only the things that went _right_. What hurt even more was getting all the way to the back, turning around corners most people would get bored by, before happening upon a hall all the way in the back, a room no bigger than a closet it seemed is where they squeezed in all the Blackwatch memorabilia. You bit your lip and held back a little quiver as you touched a broken Talon agents helmet.

Here was their failure. Here was where they were willing to talk about the devastation to the communities. _Here_ , is where they blamed Blackwatch for causing a slaughter of agents from a "private task force"- they were too cowardly to even refer to the enemies by their names, to call them Talon. Your fingers ran over a bullet hole in the dead center of stark white Talon helmet, proof of Jesse’s sharpshooting. There were many things you would regret, and not having a proper goodbye with your cowboy was one of them. In the moment you were too distracted, unable to see past a rage focusing you in on Tishler and nothing could have ripped you away from it. You missed the days of taking up most of the space in his bed, you even missed the smell of his cigars.

Behind you, in the reflection of glass you could see movement. A large obvious gorilla shape accompanied by a wiry girl. You were trying to dry your eyes without moving as Winston laid a hand on your shoulder, he was warm and comforting but all you could think about was how frustrated Jesse used to get when he tried to teach you to aim.   

Winston said your name and you heard it in a haze. He was trying to get you to move away from the Blackwatch exhibit, but you were lost in your own head. Lena chimed in, softly questioning what you were doing. He said your name again, and again, each time with a growing worry.

“Morrison.” You corrected under your breath.

“What was that?”

“It’s Mrs. Morrison.” You said it quietly, wrapping your arms around the other in a loose hug to your body. Winston looked to you with an uncomfortable pity, eyes that you knew were only looking to you because he thought you’d officially lost it. Lena shifted uncomfortably on her feet. “I changed my name. It’s Mrs. Morrison now.”

"I'll be sure to correct that, going forward." Winston said, adjusting his glasses and glancing at Lena. "It's, um, it's nice to see you finally. How have you been doing?" 

"Better." You couldn't stop thinking about Jesse. He'd hate this place, he'd complain about it the whole damn time. "Hey, is there any chance you’ve heard from Jesse?” Your eyes were watering again, but you refused to cry when so many former agents were casting their gaze your way as they passed by and caught sight of the odd trio you were.

“There haven’t been any sightings that I know of. In fact, I was going to ask you about him. Part of the Petras Act is keeping track of all agents current locations and there’s a few of them I haven’t been able to pin down.”

“Oh.” You breathed out, nothing more able to form as a lip quivered. "I really miss him Winston." They both looked at you expecting the worst and it hit you hard. "Fuck, I miss all of you. I miss you guys, I miss my Blackwatch family-"

"And you must miss Commander Morrison terribly?" Lena was standing in front of you in a flash, offering a big hug. You fell forward to accept her arms, but she didn't quite realize that your nodding was because you'd rather be laying in bed with Jack at that very moment than crying in a public place. "We've been so worried about you, love." 

Reuniting with Winston and Lena got you far more emotional that you thought it would, and that had you fearing the break down you would have whenever found Genji or Jesse again. But, they were kind. They shielded you from onlookers, allowed you to have a moment with the Blackwatch artifacts before turning your back on them with a deep breath, ready to face the daunting task of putting on a fake smile for the next day. As embarrassing as it was, they walked with you all the way back to the hotel which you were silently grateful for. With worried looks from them you excused yourself under the excuse that seeing everything was too much, hurrying back up to your room where you were able to call Jack in peace and complain about the tacky uniform waiting for you. 

Then, the opening ceremony. 

There were a total of 214 agents who ended up attending the museum opening, you included. They cleared a spot in the main room of the museum, surrounded by the larger than life statues, and set up a temporary stage with rows and rows of plastic chairs. You were ushered along with all of the other uniformed agents into the seats by order of rank, you scanned the seats in front of you for the massive form of Reinhardt who had been invited but seemed to be missing. You messed with a loose string on your skirt as you sat through rambling speeches and tried to remember that you needed to call Reinhardt, you wanted to know how he was doing. 

It was obvious most of the speeches were purely for the press, more propaganda for how amazing Overwatch was while it was still active, glowing testimonies by higher ups who never once saw combat themselves. As it was passing the first hour you were off put, but you knew these things usually took long. By the time it was nearing the two hour mark you were visibly annoyed in your seat, along with all the other agents it seemed, until finally former director Petras took his stand at the microphone delivering a grand finale. You stared daggers into him the entire time, hoping he could feel you hating him, hoping he knew you knew that he'd been part of a cover up in Jack's "death". 

"For our final moments here, we would like to thank those in particular for their bravery during the events of the explosion at Overwatch headquarters. These agents today will be receiving medals of honor for their courage and perseverance when they were faced with such a horrific event. Please, as I call your name line up at the edge of the stage to receive your medal." He was smiling and looking directly into the cameras, this was a show only for the press and it was _so transparent._    

He called a handful of names before yours, but you grumbled and side stepped your way to the line before crossing a stage with bright lights to meet Petras. He turned away from the microphone to lower the medal around your neck, your back was to the cameras. You looked him dead in the eyes, dropping your expression the moment no one else could see you. 

"Why did you lie?" You whispered between gritting teeth. He looked to you with wide knowing eyes and you continued a cold glare. 

"Shut up and smile for the cameras." He plastered on his own fake smile and forcefully turned you to face them.

Fuck him. You had to let out a long breath forcing yourself to calm down.

You could feel it. You could feel the hate twisting around in your stomach, you could feel the anger threatening to suck your eyes to endless voids. 

Instead you scowled, you pushed up the arms of your shitty cheaply made uniform to show off your scars and you made your way down the stage already in the process of taking your hair out of a perfect military standard bun. With a huff you exited behind thin curtains to stage hands who moved out of your way as fast as they could. You were fuming. He was a coward, a liar, all you wanted to do was punch him- no, you wanted to turn around and run up there and choke him out until his greasy face was red and his breathing was stopped. 

Attempting to calm down, you were pacing in a circle behind the stage. You were so lost thinking about all the things you still wanted to say to him that you almost missed it. You almost missed the dark shadow on the other side of the room that moved just a little unnaturally, the smallest hint of smoke curling across the floor. You froze. Your skin buzzing with a terrible numbness and a cold sweat gathering at your forehead. You stood with attention, the faces of stagehands at your side snapping to look at you.

“Whoa, you’re looking flushed, are you okay?” A voice said at your side but you waved them off and rushed off the side and away towards the smoke.

Reporters and agents alike watched as you ripped the medal from your neck and tossed it to the side, cameras following you as you skidded out a door and into an empty courtyard where you disappeared from their view. Just another glance, he was quick. You sprinted towards it, around another corner and out of the museum, following it as it snaked against the ground and you were pushing people on the sidewalk out of the way to get to him. You were avoiding people's worried glances, glances that you should have paid more attention to- maybe then you would have noticed the horrified faces of people who saw endless black eyes. 

You were panting from the speed and the distance you'd been keeping up. Everything looked sharper, a word in black and white with details you could have never imagined. You could see years old marks of gum on the sidewalks, scrapes and holes filled in long ago in the pavement. You focused in on the quickly disappearing smoke darting as fast as it could away from you.

By the time you came to a halt you were at the edge of the city, overlooking an endless wild below and you were lost in the dark alley way between buildings you no longer recognized, spinning in circles trying desperately to find it- to find him. 

“Gabriel!” You screamed as your body curled in on itself.

A shadow moved in the awful silence. It built up taller than you, tall until it was at Gabe's height. The smoke moved slowly, almost unsure if it meant to be forming or not. With your eyes like this you could see his in the smoke, you could see little red circles lost in a black cloud zeroing in on you.

"Gabe, please!" Your voice broke as you cried out at the form. 

Then it fell.

The smoke fell to your feet and moved fast between them until it spilled over the edge, falling down far into the wild and far out of your sight- farther than you would ever be able to chase. Caught in your own footing, you looked down. He'd untied your shoelaces. You screamed over the railings, voice horse from crying and shaking from fear.

"Gabriel!"     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, just a heads up I'm heading into finals so there might be some long breaks between chapters over the next two weeks. Thanks for your patience babes! (灬 ͡♡ ͜ʖ ͡♡灬)


	44. Don't Forget Winona

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'If you ever plan to motor west  
> Travel my way, take the highway that is best~'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive!! Sorry for the long wait babes (☞⌐▀͡ ͜ʖ͡▀ )☞

“I don’t care if you’re busy, tell me _why_ he was there Sombra.” You were gritting your teeth and speaking through shaking breaths.

Gabe was there, he was _right fucking there_ at the museum opening and he slipped away from you. You were too slow. You were too sloppy. You've gotten lazy without daily routines. For so long all you knew was a military schedule, now lazy mornings with Jack and sunshine filled afternoons were dulling your mind and your skills. He wouldn't have got away if you just worked a little harder, if you'd just been on the edge a little more. Unable to steady yourself, now back in your hotel room with that cheap excuse of a uniform strewn across the dirty hotel carpet, you were pacing back and forth trying to remain calm. It wasn’t working, your fingers pinched at the bridge of your nose and you were refusing to look in the mirror to see your deep black eyes. Eyes that would only remind you of _him_ and what a failure you were for letting him get away. 

“I’m surrounded by agents right now!” Sombra hissed into the phone before dropping her voice to an almost unintelligible whisper. “All I know is that he was ordered there to kill _you_ and that it was off any sort of records, he left right after an inner council meeting.” The sounds of shifting filled the receiver, motion static that made you cringe before her voice returned. She was checking her surroundings to make sure no one else was listening in on her hurried conversation. 

“I hired you to _watch him_ so shit like this doesn’t catch me off guard!”

“I’ve been a little busy getting my ass handed to me by the lunatics that run this place! I can't be on his back twenty-four seven, that would be a suicide mission. But listen, I’ve also been making some connections, I think there are some agents here who aren’t as loyal to Talon as we thought they’d be. Ugh, hang on-” She grumbled in Spanish and you heard the sounds of agents speaking over radios in the background and her breathing picking up as if she was jogging somewhere. “I’ll have you know I _have_ been doing surveillance on him, I was going to call you at the end of the week to report it-”  

“Tell me everything you know, _now_.” You growled.

“Alright, but you're not gonna like it." She clicked her tongue. "The day before he left I stealthed into Reaper’s room on base after my program cracked his door code-”

“You _what?!”_

“Listen, when I got in I was checking out his personal items. He doesn’t have much, but he does have a notebook he seems to be writing things down in. Most of it was unreadable, like just scribbles or something, but it looked like he was trying to remember who he is. A bunch of pages looked insane.”

A ping went off on your hacking screen, tucked away beneath dirty laundry, you dug through your clothes and brought it up in front of you. She’d sent you pictures of the journal, pages and pages of handwritten jumbled memories, many with line after line of ‘24’ written in the same handwriting he used to use on mission reports- messy, but legible.  

“Fuck.” You sighed as nails dug into the skin of your arm.   

Other pages talked about murders he’s committed, most ending in reference to a strangulation even when he knew he'd only used his guns. His memories of a woman were becoming clearer with each death at his hands, chasing memories, casing a familiar feeling and your knees felt weak as it hit you he was trying to remember _you_. The hard mattress you fell back onto gave way for you to sink against it, body feeling the weight of his murders pulling you down. You could have stopped him. You could have killed him. A voice of man you'd rather forget telling you every day that you should have just listened to the Blackwatch commander's pleas for freedom from his smoky black curse echoed through the halls of your body, bouncing off in insides of your skin and settling like a stone in the very pit of your stomach.

“Did you find anything else?” You finally managed to breathe out against the phone as you pushed hair from your sweating forehead.

“Well, here’s the problem. He might have caught me…”

 _“He what?!”_ That got you sitting up again, you felt a surge of blind panic.

“When he came back to his room he just stopped at the door and looked right at me. Even though my tech was working perfectly, he still saw me! I tried to run but he stopped me and jefa I was so scared, I really thought he was gonna kill me, but he just grabbed my arm and I could hear him breathing like a maniac under that mask of his and in his deep voice he was all-" She cleared her throat and dropped her tone as low as it could go, practically grumbling into the phone "What are you doing in my room?”

“Did he hurt you?” Your heart was racing. She was still alive, you knew  _that much_ at least but the thought of him hurting her made your mind buzz with all the terrible possibilities he could have done.  

“No, that’s the crazy part! I-I didn’t know what to say, and I was just stuttering trying to come up with any sort of excuse, and then he asked me if I was having nightmares and I just, I don't know I didn't think about about it, I just said yes because I was too afraid to tell him the truth. I was freaking out inside, right? He just sits me down on his couch and this physco just had me sit there while he made the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had. We sat in total silence for _over an hour_ before I calmed myself down enough to leave.”

Speechless.

Outright gobsmacked.

Not only had she managed to get herself caught, but now your heart was caught in your throat. This was the first definitive proof you had that you were right- Gabe was still in there. Perhaps lost in his head, memories of his life before the explosion confused, but he was in there and he was trying to find his way back. Something in him still cared.   

“Did you see him without his mask?” You gasped out, finally building up your courage enough to make it to the mirror and check your eyes. Slowly the world was colorizing again, red always came back first.

“Nah, he kept it on the whole time. Took his gloves off though, his arms are _nasty_. Seems like a strong dude under all that armor, but his skin was all kinds of fucked up-” She sucked in a sharp breath. “N-not that scars are ugly, you know, I mean I think _your_ scars are cool, it’s just his are, you know, different?”

“Did anything else happen while you were there?” You were back to pinching your nose, annoyance coursing through your veins along with Gabe’s blood at the sudden reminder of your scars.

“No, ma’am.” She spoke tight-lipped, embarrassed to have ever even brought them up in the first place.   

“Ugh, don’t call me ma’am.” You pulled at your eyelids, watching as black faded to the corners of your eyes. “If there's nothing else to report then I need to ask you to keep an eye out for any news about me after today, I left the event in a bit of a disruptive way and I think some media outlets might try to say they saw things they didn’t.”

“You telling me to dox anywhere that writes about you?”

“Not exactly, only if you see them claiming anything… usual.”

Back to normal. Whites in the corners and regular pupils staring back at you in the reflection. Eyes no longer matching those of a monster you were left with an empty feeling. Jack would be horrified, he’d think you were disgusting. Seeing your eyes all black made you nauseous.

“You’re the boss.”

Sombra left you with a click to the ear. You were met with the silence of the hotel room, standing in ripped stockings and a cheap undershirt with nails pulling hard at the ripping seam of the top.

Your heart hurt. It was a dull ache that radiated from your chest to your throat and choked you up. Part of you was so happy to know he was still in there, overwhelmingly joyed that Gabriel Reyes hadn’t fully disappeared the day buildings came crashing down around you. But, your heart was conflicted and you felt it being ripped into tiny pieces like flimsy paper. This also meant at least some part of him knew exactly what he was doing. He was killing, ruthlessly, uncaring about the souls he’d taken- many slain before their lives could even really begin. Children. Elderly. People who were innocent, maybe not everyone was, but he certainly had killed people that never deserved it and never even had a chance to defend themselves.

There was laughter from strangers in the hallway, but it felt out of place as it hit you hard that you were terrified to think Gabe may be completely conscious of all the horrible things he’s done. Your forgiveness for his atrocities could only go so far. He could only be redeemed so much. Without realizing it, you were rubbing at the front of your neck, unconsciously comforting yourself by touching the very spot that almost killed you. All you want to do was yell at him, to scream and push him, all the unresolved anger you'd built up for years now was mixing together and threatening to make you sick with guilt. You hated that you still loved him, that you still considered him family. You hated that you never despised him the way you dispised Jack after he'd injured you just as much. 

Times like this, alone and angry, these were the times it got to you. The what-ifs and the other roads you could have followed that would get you somewhere that none of this ever happened. Without realizing it you had been holding your breath, nails digging into the edge of a cheaply made tank top. You choked out a breath as you accidentally tore the stitching and puffed out sharp breaths. You could feel a deep panic building in your stomach, something you'd been able to hold off for so long, the feeling that hit you the night you went running to Moira begging not to feel how you were starting to now.   

Your phone was vibrating in your hand, an incoming call from an unknown number- something that was becoming increasingly more common for you as your secrets grew. You swiped it and held the receiver to your ear, unable to steady and refusing to speak until the person on the other end of the call identified themselves.  

“They’re saying you stormed out of the opening-” Jack’s worried voice sprung over the phone as soon as the line stopped trilling.

“He was there, Jack.” You said still in a state of shock, stomach twisting in a horrible jerk.

Jack dropped from shaking breaths to complete silence, understanding immediately. You leaned heavy against the wall of your hotel room next to your window, staring out over a darkening sky with wisps of clouds passing over emerging stars. You sniffed in short dry sobs. There was a deep fear that you'd turn and see smoke curling beneath the door frame, that you'd feel cold hands wrapping around your throat and dragging you to the floor.  

“I saw him and I chased him, but he got away.” You whispered. 

“You should have _never_ gone after him alone.” He was using his commander’s voice and that bothered you more than you could put into words. You weren't his agent anymore, he wasn't in charge of you, he wasn't in charge of what you did or didn't do. 

“What did you expect me to do? Ignore him?” 

“He could kill you! He’s already tried to before-”

“Don’t you dare bring that up right now.” You clenched your jaw, fingers landing at the base of your throat and pressing hard. “Believe me or not, I know I can take him down if I wanted to. He trained me to take him down. I’m not the girl afraid of broken glass anymore, Jack.”

“He’s too dangerous.” He replied with a pause. “Unhinged and unpredictable. You know what he’s capable of, I don’t want you chasing after him by yourself. It’s not worth the risk.” 

"You don't get to tell me what's worth the risk-"

"Did something else happen?" He cut you off, even through the phone he knew you. The tone in your voice or the quick breathing you were trying to hide. He knew you were upset about more than just Gabe getting away. You stared into your reflection on the window refusing to look at your face.

"My eyes went black again." You said under your breath. He opened his mouth to say something, to comfort you in some way, but you cut him off. "I don't want to talk about it. I just want to bring Gabe back." 

"We can't avoid talking about it forever." 

He was upset, but you could hear that his words were coming from a place of hurt and love. He sounded just like he did when he was punishing you sneaking off to null sector- disappointed and scared. You sighed, breath catching as you searched the skies for matte black planes or black clouds that looked suspiciously like smoke. You couldn't go chasing after Reaper on your own, and you couldn't drag Jack along with you everywhere you went. It was hard to admit you needed help, even harder when you knew there were very few people on this earth you trusted to keep quiet about your motives.

“We can’t do this alone.” You finally said after you heard him sit with a low grunt. “I know you don’t want to do this, but we need to find Jesse. Maybe he'll want to bring Gabe back and he can stick with me when you can’t. We need more than just this ragtag team of you, me, and Sombra.”

“Why not Genji? I always liked him better.” The annoyance in his voice was obvious, still a lingering distrust of the cowboy clad in black. 

“Genji's working through his own issues right now, even if he was our only option I think we'd be doing more harm than good trying to pull him away from what he's doing now. It has to be Jesse.” You chewed your lip, expecting him to raise more questions, to ask why you wouldn’t suggest Lena or one of the other strike agents to help you on your quest, but he knew. He knew you only wanted Blackwatch family on this and you guessed he also had the same glimmer of hope you did, the hope that maybe Gabe would recognize one of your boys and that would help bring him back to the man he used to be.

Jack huffed into the phone, seemingly out of excuses and out of fight. You tapped your foot with nervousness, a heart still seeking approval for your plans from your commander even though you hated it.

“Where do we start?” He grunted and you let out a held breath. The feeling of panic was subsiding to a calm focus, the strange twisting in your stomach releasing with the tension in your shoulders. 

“When I get home I’ll start running programs on all his former Deadlock members, check to see if anyone’s had any extra expenses recently, or if anyone has been off the grid a while. We’re not going to find him right away, but they’ll at least know some places to start looking for him. It's going to be a lot of time on the road dealing with gangs, we might not be home for a while." 

"Home isn't home unless I'm with you." 

You bit at your lip, ignoring the tears at the corner of your eyes you chuckled out through your easing pain. Your fingers played with the frayed thread at the hem of your shirt, twirling it around and until it was tight and you could pull it to rip the loose end away. 

"Cornball." You laughed as you jerked your hand and snapped the thread. You pushed out a deep breath and stared at flickering stars in the night sky, eyeing the same constellation you used to see out of your window in your room on base. You wished things were easier, that you were living a life where Jack wasn't a secret, where Gabe wasn't lost, where Genji and Jesse still came knocking on your door as the sun was rising. The world was darker now. More so than you ever could have imagined with the flashbang of a minefield. "Jack, when we find Gabe, do you think you're going to try to kill him?" 

"I don't know sweetheart." He sighed and you stayed quiet, listening to his breathing steady against the receiver. "I love you. No matter what happens, no matter what I have to do, I love you." 

* * *

Jack made sure to give extra attention to your flowers while you were gone. They were alive and thriving, even trimmed into a neat row as you walked up the porch and ran your fingers over their bright yellow petals. He was waiting for you near the railings, leaned over with that goofy smile on his face and his hair poking up from his head after a shower. You dropped your bag to the old wood, landing heavy next to your feet as you jumped into his arms. He kissed you across your face, down your cheeks over smile lines as he held you carefully off the floor, strong in his arms until you were giggling and curling fingers into the base of his white hair. 

"Welcome home." He smiled as his lips landed over yours and you squeezed him tighter. You kissed him deep as your body fell against his and he stepped back into the house. Lips in a thin smile you couldn't help but feel that familiar warmth he always left you with as he brought you into your home and held your head close to his. As you fell into the front room you saw a couch tastefully covered in a new gray cover. He noticed you staring and smiled as he placed a kiss at the end of your nose. "Tried to get the blood stains out but wasn't really working. Glenn helped me find a cover that fit." 

"I-" You cut yourself off with a nervous laugh. "I'm so sorry I shot you Jack, really. Are you still holding up okay?" Your hand landed over his ribs where the bullet made contact, gripping into an old thin material shirt. 

"It'll take a lot more than a pistol to kill me." He was smiling, kissing you even, but you still felt a gut-wrenching guilt for hurting him so bad. 

He brought your bag in for you, drew a bath in the tub looking over the growing farm fields, poured a glass of cheap white wine and left you to soak in steaming water with lavender scented bubbles. As you drowned the museum events in the tub the smell of dinner wafted through the open bathroom door, beckoning you to join him. He was always so smug when he was able to coax you out of a room with the smell of his cooking alone, he'd pretend he didn't know what you popped your head into the kitchen for, ignoring the apron he wore that looked more like a tactical vest racked with spices and utensils. You joined him at the dining table in a barely closed robe knowing it was teasing him, rolling your eyes and sipping from your glass every time his eyes fell to the slowly opening front.

You ate his dinner and faked that you weren't squirming in your seat as his gaze locked onto your exposed shoulder. You teased him by propping your feet up under the table in his lap, resting against his inner thigh, testing his patience for how long he'd be able to deny you. To your surprise he lasted through dinner, he stayed strong even when you dropped the fluffy robe and dawned a skimpy satin negligee in black. He didn't push you even when you slept spooning him, your fingers lingering over his waistline making his pulse race as you kissed at the back of his neck. 

In the morning you woke to an empty bed, your arms outstretched over his side with fingers curling into the sheets where he belonged. You followed the soft sounds of your computer pinging with location hits, found him sitting at your desk chair monitoring the hits for any deadlock members since you last heard from Jesse.

"Good morning, handsome." You sighed as you leaned against the door frame.

"Morning." He smiled back at you, patting his lap as an invitation to sit.

With a knowing look, you slipped over his legs resting against him as a seat and he nuzzled his face to your back, warm and happy. You wiggled, pretending to settle down further down on him and his hands fell to the outside of your thighs with gripping fingers. You scrolled through the tabs he had open, mostly news stories of vigilantes around the country, of possible Reaper sightings and segments of Talon soldiers attacking businesses. A decommissioned commander that couldn't leave well enough alone, you saw the history of searches to the side, list after list of strike team member's names. He couldn't stop himself from check in on them, from seeing if anyone was like him, still unable to give up the fight. 

"Anything interesting?" You said over your shoulder as you started your program for the Deadlock Gang. Your system whirred to life and steady beeps filled the air as hits slowly started coming in. 

"There's a handful of vigilantes in masks that clearly had some sort of training from Overwatch, but I can't quite place who they are." Behind you he leaned forward to kiss at your shoulder, moving hair from your neck and his breath fell against your skin.

"I can run them with Winston's database of known agent whereabouts if you want." 

"I'm sure they don't want this old man butting in on their business." 

"I'll run them anyways." You laughed knowing he'd be keeping himself up at night wondering where his agents were. 

You leaned forward, shifting in his lap and ignoring the jump between his legs as you placed elbows on the desk and typed away into long strings of code. His hands wandered from the sides of your legs to your back, thumbs hooking beneath the edge of your shirt, lifting as he pushed his hands up your spine. The way he was touching you made you arch your back, his knuckles rolled across sore spots and knots in between feather-light kisses between your shoulder blades. Your hips wiggled slow and hard against him, enjoying the feeling of his cock throbbing against you as you sat. He continued with a lazy massage and messy kisses to your back even as one hand circled to your front and wiggled its way between your closed thighs.

Pretending to be too engrossed with work, you forced yourself to keep your eyes forward, bit back little moans as his fingers teased along the outside of your panties. Beneath you, he was getting impatient with your dramatic ignoring of his attempts to rile you and his hand moved more aggressively, fingertips rubbing rough circles against your covered clit. 

"Come on sweetheart-" He begged beneath hot breaths. 

Wanting to let him have a little fun, you dropped one leg off to the side opening yourself wider to him. Without the resistance of tightly closed thighs, he took his opportunity to adjust the remaining barriers away and hooked his fingers beneath your panty line, pulling them to the side as one finger ran along your exposed slit. A low groan left him as his finger slid into you, curling and pumping against walls that begged to be filled with him again. He was slowly rutting himself against your ass as he sank the finger further in, you could feel his catching breaths hitting your back with each harder press to your body. It was so simple, how he touched you. So simple but so effective that he had you curling your toes in moments.     

With a happy sigh, you smiled to yourself and curled over the desk. With a low noise leaving your throat as he added another finger you rolled your neck and caught your reflection in a darkened screen to your side. 

Black eyes.

In a moment of panic, you gasped and ripped yourself away from him. Stumbling off his lap, tripping over your own tangling legs, and felling to your knees on the floor where you landed hard against the woodgrain and slapped a hand over your mouth trying not to let out a scared sob. Immediately he was dropping to the ground with you, hands on your shoulders and an overwhelming concern in his voice. 

"D-did I hurt you?" His voice was shaking. 

"Don't look." You managed to gasp through your fingers. "My eyes- Jack, my eyes they're-" 

He lifted your chin, fingers careful to land softly around your jaw before guiding you to look at him. You tried to look away to avoid the inevitable disgust you'd see when he'd finally see the monster you were- when he saw just what Gabe left with you. He searched your eyes for a moment before twisting his brows and his hand moved to push hair from your face. He didn't look scared or upset, he didn't recoil or gasp in shock like you thought he would. He looked worried beyond belief. 

"Your eyes are _normal_." He said with a small smile and fell heavy to sit next to you on the floor. With a long breath, he landed a hand on your knee and squeezed as he seemed to gather his thoughts. "I know we've been avoiding talking about this, but we need to address how anxious you are about me seeing you with Gabe's... symptoms. I don't want you to be afraid of me seeing that side of you."

"What if I end up just like him?" You breathed as you fell to the floor, throwing your arm over your eyes. "What if I can't control myself anymore? What if I lose my mind-"

"Then I'll be there to pull you back." He lowered himself to the floor as well, both of you flat on your backs staring at a popcorn ceiling and he laced his fingers between yours. "His downfalls are not your responsibility or your destiny, and his blood does not decide the path you follow. Just because he's become this homicidal maniac doesn't mean you will. Under all that smoke, and those eyes you're so scared of, he's still just a human. A human who has made some pretty awful choices, but human."

You scooted closer to Jack, adjusting your clothes back into place and setting your head on his chest. His fingers lazily ran through the ends of your hair and held you close as you struggled to find the words to describe how thankful you were for his unconditional support. You wanted to beat a fist against his chest and tell him that no matter how much he reasoned with you there would still be a fear of having him see you the way you saw Gabe for so long. You wanted to explain how terrified you used to be of seeing those eyes, how smoke makes you more nervous now than it did when you just used to associate it to a burning forest. 

Instead, the ping of your program rang into the air, a simple sound indicating it was done and you pushed yourself from his chest to look at the screen.  

"Looks like we have a couple places to check out. You ready for a road trip?" You turned back to look at him and his face shifted from gentle concern to a tight smirk. 

"Let's start packing." 

* * *

You left on a gray morning. The cameras around the house were running, but Glenn from the neighboring farm insisted on coming over to check the place out while you were both away. You packed away with Jack into an older model car- one that still had the tireless driving system, but it wasn't completely self-driving. Jack didn't seem to mind, he liked having one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh as the car drove on autopilot over long empty stretches of Route 66. The first couple days were nothing but traveling, the Deadlock Gang seemed to occupy only the southern portions of the highway, and for that you were almost thankful because you were able to act like dumb tourists together. In the car he made you laugh by singing silly songs from the radio that he clearly didn't know the lyrics to. You rested your head on his shoulder and gave him a knowing smirk as you sank your face into his lap. Always the rule follower, too afraid of being distracted from the road he stopped you from unzipping the front of his jeans.  

In Illinois, he stopped at a run-down building replicating a 1950's soda shop. He wore that beat up red baseball hate of his and dark sunglasses and you ordered everything from the waitress in a puffed out pink poodle skirt so no attention was ever drawn to him. In Missouri, you stopped to look through a museum. On one side old broken artifacts from the American civil war were displayed under bright lights and lazily put together cases, on the other side were pieces of omnics and uniforms from the military- artifacts of the first omnic war and the devastation it brought to the area. Jack looked at the torn uniform for a long time, you watched as he seemed to recall his own time fighting before he rolled his lips together and silently led you out back to the car. 

Through Kansas and Oklahoma you talked about the road trips he used to go on with his dad. Memories of old road trips quickly turned into all the times he'd driven across states with Gabe and the rest of his convoy while he was still in the SEP program. You listened quietly and attentively as he seemed to struggle through stories about a best friend who he was still talking about as if he was dead. It hurt Jack to talk about Gabe, even in memories, but when he did finally talk, you let him keep going until he got all his thoughts out. 

At a shitty motel in Texas you used cash to pay for a room that bearly qualified as habitable. Jack slept without eating dinner, you curled against his back and tried to ignore the loud arguments of a couple in the room next door that lasted well into the morning. You dragged yourself out of bed that morning knowing the next stop was an abandoned Overwatch safehouse in New Mexico, a safehouse on the edge of Deadlock Gang territory. The only driving factor to get you moving was the thought of finally being reunited with Jesse- that and Jack grabbing both of your hands to pull you from the hard mattress as an exasperated groan left you. 

That afternoon, as you were looking at long empty stretches of dirt passing by through the window, a call came through which you connected to the speakers of the car.

"Hey, Moira-"

"Are you safe?" Her voice was hurried, breathy as if she was looking around to make sure no one heard her. 

"Yes?" 

"That _woman_ , Arntz is- the inner council finally managed to kick her completely out of Talon. My agents have been hearing rumors she's recruiting people to kidnap you and prove she belongs as a leader here still. I think she's officially a lost cause, she broke into my lab last night and used the unstable super soldier serum." 

You watched as Jack clenched his jaw, his jowls tightening with anger before he shot a side eye your way. He blamed himself for her erratic behavior, still carried around the guilt of ruining her life with a stupid mistake. You rested a hand over his arm, fingers holding him trying to silently convey that no matter how far gone Arntz was this was not his fault. 

"Does she know where I am?" You finally asked after Moira's breathing steadied. 

"I couldn't tell you. Things have been messy here. Ga-Reaper recently accidentally called that Lacroix woman by her name but seemed confused after he said it. She herself does not know who she is, so listening to their conversations is getting increasingly frustrating and as I was leaving my lab he's admitted to me he feels some responsibility to her."

"So his memories are returning?" Jack interrupted and you heard a noise on the other end telling you his voice caught Moira off guard.  

"It's fluctuating. Somedays it appears clearer, others are... difficult." She spoke tighter, words sharper now that she knew Jack was on the call. 

Then movement. It sounded as if fabric was scraping against the receiver, the rush of air sent static over the line. Muffled voices mixed with the sounds of the road speeding beneath the car and you couldn't quite make them out until an unnaturally low one spoke close to the phone. 

"Who do you think you're talking to, doc?"

Chills ran down the back of your neck, prickling down the back of your spine and shoving like a needle into your lungs. Jack sucked in a sharp breath and refused to look at you, eyes glued to the road in front of him. You both knew, each of your recognized the distorted version of him. Moira's voice stuttered out something before the call ended and you were left in the deafening silence of the car. The lump at Jack's throat bobbed with a heard swallow and all you wanted to do was scream. Something about his voice was just so deeply unsettling, it curled like smoke in your stomach and echoed through your ears. It made you angry, and it hurt deep in your gut that there was absolutely nothing you could be doing other than chasing after the ghost of a friend hoping they'd be willing to tag along on your insane plan.  

It was a mostly silent ride after that. Neither of you wanted to acknowledge it. Neither of you wanted to be the first to admit it was him. Instead, you swayed with the movements of the car and felt the sun beating down on you through the windsheild deep into New Mexico where you came to your first official stop on the road to get Jesse McCree. He brought your bags into the abandoned Overwatch safehouse, previously used by Blackwatch agents infiltrating rival gangs along Route 66. Most of the home had been stripped of its personality, all electronics missing, cut wires laid exposed from the wall and the ceiling flickered when you turned on the lights with burning out bulbs. Forgotten in time and chaos, a perfect place to hide while you roughed up a few locals. 

All the windows stayed shut, curtains down and light out. Cigar ashes laid just outside the front door, ashes that you stepped on and dragged through the already dirty carpet. Jack went to the closet to pull from the dusty array of leftover clothes. Left with little to work with, you shooed him out of the way to put together clothes that would help both of you blend in at least a little for you to head out into the bar run by the gang that night. The only thing that fit you was a dirty leather jacket, riddled with holes and what you imagined must have been someone's blood on the inside, you sucked up any squeamish thoughts and shrugged it over your own casual outfit. The only thing big enough for Jack was a denim jacket, but he had to rip the sleeves at the shoulders otherwise he wouldn't have been able to move his arms. 

God you felt stupid. 

As far as blending in goes, you knew the new pieces would do little to help you with the crowd. Jack seemed to realize too as you pulled up outside of the bar and parked in a dark dirt lot across the street. Knowing his excessively large stature and bright white hair would be a dead give away, he resigned to staying posted with his pistol outside the bar, watching for any bad business as you coxed information from your target. As you jogged to the front door of the bar you looked over your shoulder to him standing in the dark and nodded. 

You weren't alone. You didn't need to be scared. You had your commander. 

It was loud. Old rock music blasting from speakers above and the inside lit with low hanging fluorescent bars that definitely needed to be changed. In one corner a group was playing pool, rowdy as they talked with lifted voices and slapped each other's backs. You hadn't felt this nervous in a long time, the nervousness of a mission starting and not knowing where it was going. In a weird way, it felt good. You sidestepped your way through a small crowd all the way to cracked seats at the bar and eyed the faces around you for your targets.

Here, you'd have to be careful who you spoke to about your intentions. Here is where Jesse McCree had his greatest allies and his worst enemies. When he got the opportunity for Blackwatch, two of the other major gang leaders with Deadlock got prison. The third, the one you were most frightened to deal with after years of Jesse refusing to even mention all the terrible things she'd done, the third was stilling running the crime ring and seemed to have tight control over it. Here, on the outskirts, however, here is where rivals and outlaws alike came to get drunk and laid then not speak about it the next day. Here, both Jesse's supporters and Jesse's enemies intermingled for the night. 

An angry faced bartender asked what you wanted to drink and you didn't even hear yourself order as you zeroed in on one of the members still active within the Deadlock Gang. Zeke, one of three identical triplets close to the current leader seemed to be on his own that night at the bar. Immediately his eye caught yours and you tried to act casual as if you were just checking him out. You almost gagged as he nodded his head at you with a long smile. Scrawny and covered in old poorly designed tattoos, he slunk his way over to you and slid in at the barstool next to you, leaning close to speak over the music.

"Ain't seen you in any gangs here 'fore. Where you from?" 

"Just passin' through." You responded with the closest accent to Jesse's as you could manage. "Was actually hopin' I'd run into someone I knew a few years ago." 

"Why wait around lookin' for someone old when you can get someone new right now?" He swayed backward, smiling at you. With the best fake smile you could manage you ran your fingers over the outline of one of his tattoos on his arm. 

"You wanna take this outside?" You purred into his ear and he perked up by grabbing your hand and leading you out the backdoor where the music pounded against the metal walls.

He pulled at you, laughing as he tried to bring you close enough to kiss but you quickly moved your face feigning being too shy as you fell against him and his back hit the wall. You let him giggle for a moment, allowed his hands to trail from your shoulders to your side until you had enough of your front and quickly flipped him around, grabbing both his hands behind his back and shoving his face against the rusty metal wall. 

"Whoa, hey now little lady, I like it rough but not that rough-" 

"Jesse McCree. Where is he?" You growled.

"That sonofabitch? Ow-" He sucked in through crooked teeth as you twisted his wrists and kicked behind his knees to weaken him further against the wall. "The hell you want with that traitor?" 

"I have phone records that say he tried to contact you days before leaving Overwatch. Do you have any information on him, yes or no?" You put more pressure on his wrist, bending it at an angle that made his whole body shake.

"That was over a year ago lady I don't know shit!" 

"Shame." With your own hands and sheer willpower, you snapped his wrist. Your fingers felt the break in his bones, the crack was louder than the music pounding against the door and his pained gasp sent him falling to the ground. You caught him as he was on his knees, arm wrapping tight around his neck in a powerful hold. "Think about your next answer very carefully. Do you have any information about Jesse McCree?" 

"The boss is searchin' for him!" He cried out as he shook like a leaf in your hold. "Our l-leader, Ashe, she thinks she knows where he's hiding out. Somewhere in Arizona! That-that's all I know, I swear!" 

You squeezed and he tried to claw at you with his hand that still could. Something inside was telling you to do it, to kill him anyways, a voice that said he deserved it, that he was a liar, that he needed to be taught a lesson, but just as his body went limp you dropped him and his body hit the dirt in panting wheezing breaths. Stepping back you realized your hands were shaking, your body was rushed with adrenaline, but you focused yourself and checked all around you to make sure you could still see color. You got your information, you left him alive, you did what you came to do and you tried to shake off your intrusive thoughts as you ran back to the car and the man waiting, signaling that you needed to move out.

* * *

Winona, Arizona. It took three days to track down the leader to the city, two days to figure out where she was hiding out, and an evening to realize just how casually she was running her operation. She had set up a temporary base tacked on to an abandoned warehouse and if you were silent enough you could hear whispers of their conversations carried through the thick glass windows. She'd been warned about you coming, which you guessed would be the case. However, to your disappointment, she seemed to be no closer to Jesse than you were. 

By day six Jack was getting impatient and disgruntled with living out of his bag in a run-down motel room. Each morning you'd promise would be the last, but then you'd hear Jesse's name through the windows, you'd catch glimpses of them readying for a fight, everything would seem like they were preparing to attack someone but the fight never came. You were listening in to the gang's conversations as you laid on their roof, Jack warming an MRE at your side when you finally overheard a conversation you'd been waiting for.

"This ain't funny, McCree." Ashe's voice threatened as a door slammed. "You used my empathy for you against me, and I got you those contracts, but now I mean it, I want my cut. You can't hide from us forever and I'm gettin' my money one way or another. I'm not gonna be so nice the next time I find you." 

As she threatened him more, you put the pieces together. 

At some point, after he left Overwatch Jesse tried to come back to the Deadlock Gang, but too many members wouldn't allow it. It sounded like Ashe had managed to get him mercenary contracts and contacts on the stipulation that she would get a portion of what he earned but he'd taken off with all the information she gave him and refused to come back. They seemed to be getting into a heated argument about loyalty, about honoring where your roots are, and it was clear as day to you why Jesse had such a problem with authority if this was what he dealt with before Blackwatch.   

Day seven you took it upon yourself to hack through their (frankly, bad) security systems and wait for Ashe in her makeshift office. With a kiss and a final promise that this would be the last time, you left Jack in the motel room early in the morning and waited in Ashe's chair for her to get in. Your mask, reflective broken pieces rested on her desk as a show of respect. As soon as she came in, you wanted her to know you didn't want to fight, you just wanted to talk- but you would fight if you had to. 

Your palms were sweating as her door opened and you rolled your sleeves up to your elbows, lifting your hands in the air showing you didn't have your weapons up.

You wished it could have been easy, but things were never just _easy_.

Ashe froze as she looked at you, her office door creaking shut behind her, but she raised an eyebrow and pulled her hair back into a ponytail as she spoke into the phone. 

"Say, sugar, what did you say that girl you were keepin' an eye out for looked like?" She had this crooked little smile across her face as she took her gun from its side strap and placed it on the desk to show you she meant no harm. "Uh-huh, scars are on the left arm, right?"

Your heart jumped. Jesse. She had to be talking to Jesse. You stood as slow as you could and moved towards her.

"Can I talk to him?" You asked in a small voice. 

She made a disgruntled face and looked you up and down before turning her head to call towards the closed door. 

"Bob! Get everyone out of here!" Her tone and face switched from demanding to sweet again as she _mhmm'd_ back to the person on the phone. She smiled at you, bright red lipstick sticking to her teeth. "Oh well, it's definitely her then. I'll call you back in a bit, later." 

Outside the office, voices were grumbling and complaining about having only just got there. Heavy steps of her large omnic sidekick stomped around herding people away. She extended a hand to you and looked down through long dark lashes.

"Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe, most people just call me Ashe, but I think you knew that already." 

"I'm not here looking for a fight, I'm just trying to find Jesse McCree." 

"You and me both sister." She laughed and her fingers fell to the butt of her shotgun resting against the desk. "I don't much appreciate you breakin' my boy's bones. I'm sure there was a civil way we coulda worked that out, huh?" 

"I'm sure you of all people will understand that sometimes you have to work dirty to get what you need. You're a smart businesswoman, I know you've done a lot for your gang and don't want anyone to come in and mess that up. I'm not trying to interfere with your day-to-day, I just need to find Jesse." 

"So you said." Her expression turned sour and suddenly you didn't really get the feeling she'd been talking to Jesse on the phone when she walked in. "I'm gonna need somethin' from you before I start giving out such sensitive information like that all willy-nilly." 

"And what's that?" 

"I'm gonna need you to come with me." 

This was a mistake. You could feel it in the air. You feel sense it by the way she was looking at you and the way her fingers were gripping the end of that weapon just a little too tight. You both paused. She was eyeing you down to see if you'd respond, you were watching the way her lips twitched just on the verge of ordering that omnic of hers to attack. 

She was fast, but not fast enough for you. In the time she took to raise her shotgun and aim it at your armored stomach you'd already brought your mask over your face and dodged the shot. The sound rang high pitched in your ear and blinded you for just a second as you tried to slip past her to the door. Heart pounding harder than the deafening shot from her gun you tore open the door and pushed her to the floor scrambling to make it out of the building. Not more than a few feet from the office, large omnic arms grappled you and held you tight as you kicked and screamed. 

When the omnic turned you were faced with the barrel of the shotgun and your stomach sank. Ashe laughed from deep in her stomach and dropped the end of it back to the floor to lean against. 

"Great job catching this little vermin, Bob." She smiled above you at the omnic and pulled her phone from her vest pocket. "Make sure to keep her secure, Arntz wants her alive." 

Your breath caught in your chest. Ashe was dialing out on her phone as you were clawing off a panel on the omnic's arm. As you squirmed and kicked to no avail a shadow was making its way between empty containers, your eyes caught it in a panic thinking it was a curl of smoke at the worst possible time until you watched a familiar glowing red line dart between metal poles. Ashe grunted as the phone seemed to ring over and over again in her ear, but she leaned forward to grab you by the chin on your mask. She held you still to stare at her own reflection and fix the lipstick on her teeth with her tongue and you flung your legs forward kicking at her stomach sending her across the cement. Her previously red lipstick was no longer red, instead for you it was a dark gray. A world in vivid black and white. 

Her phone clattered to the floor as you managed to rip open a panel on the omnics arm exposing meticulous wiring. With reckless abandon, you dug in and started ripping anything and everything you could until his grip loosened and you were able to fall from his arms back on to the ground. Ashe yelled something, demanding Bob to grab you again but a shot was fired past her. Jack came running from the shadows with his pistol firing at the omnic first giving you the opportunity to take Ashe down, or at the very least fling her shotgun out of reach. Fighting side by side with Jack, you suddenly felt a calm that everything was going to be okay and a sharp focus of the fight ripped through you.

Precise punches led to her falling to the floor, Jack ran by and threw his pistol at you as he jumped onto the back of the omnic and pulled its head from its body. Beaten and bloody, you saw blood that looked more like ink pouring from her nose and you aimed the gun point-blank at her forehead. For you the world was still. It was calm. Your heart was steadying to a rhythm that told you in every beat she didn't deserve the life she had. 

You pulled the trigger. 

Jack was just fast enough to pull your arm from aiming at her head, but not fast enough to miss her completely. The bullet flew into her hip and she screamed louder than you'd ever heard before, begging for her omnic to come help her. Jack scooped you up and pulled the gun from your hands before sprinting from the building with you draped over his shoulder. He tossed you into a car quickly being surrounded by Deadlock members readying weapons to fire and he peeled out onto the main road being chased by a gang that knew you'd hurt their leader. 

"The plan was never to kill anyone!" He scolded you as he turned a hard left and pushed his gloved hand through his hair. "You are so lucky I came in to save you, do you realize that? See this is exactly why you shouldn't be out in the field alone-"

"I was fine-"

"Fine? You call what just happened back there fine?" He ripped off his mask and it landed in your lap.

You held tight onto the seatbelt as he took another corner to lose the cars chasing him and you turned to look at his face. Even though his scrunched angry expression, you could see the stitch marks from when his face was sewn up. Little cuts from too many years ago, and bunches of little sun spots that littered his cheeks visible only to you, it made you blush and reach up with careful fingertips. Suddenly you didn't care about how much danger you were in, you didn't care about him talking to you like a rogue agent. All you cared about was getting your gloves off and running your fingers over all the little details you'd never seen before.

He turned to look at you with flashes of fear before understanding hit him. He pulled off the freeway once the cars were out of sight, carefully backing the car into a dark alley between sun-bleached buildings. His breathing was hard as his hand fell to the back of your mask and unclasped it. He gasped out a small laugh as he searched your eyes with his. 

_ “What?”   _ You didn’t mean to come off as curtly as you did, but your words were laced with anger and the way he was smirking at you was so goddamn annoying.

You only paused to really consider the situation when hands fell to either of your cheeks, fingers cupping your face.  There wasn’t even a moment for you to tell him how silly he looked with the spots he couldn't see on his face before his lips were crashing onto yours. You did respond, but only after your heart racing and beating into your throat took a moment for you to register that he wasn’t afraid of your eyes, he wasn’t disgusted or horrified. He saw them, he looked into them, and within moments he was melting you into a deep kiss that almost made you want to start crying. 

“You’re not afraid of me like this?” You gasped as you pushed him away.

“It’s going to take a lot more than that to scare me, sweetheart.” He breathed hot against you before pressing lips back together and snaked fingers into your helmet greased hair. 

You curled your fingers into his hair as he kissed you deeper and the smells of sweat mixed together. You let out a nervous laugh as his kisses trailed from your lips to your cheeks and up to your eyelids. Adjusting in your seat, he pulled away to look into your eyes again and all you saw was how much he loved you. You pressed your forehead to his and as you smiled dull colors faded back into your vision. 

"You look ridiculous with just your pistol." You whispered with a laugh. "If you're up for it, before we head home I know which Overwatch facility is holding all your old helix guns." 

He smirked and brought the car whirring to life again, his hand falling at the height of your thigh moving his mask sitting in your lap. 

"Damn." He sighed as the car sped down towards the safe house. He chewed at the inside of his lip and and rolled his head against the backrest before looking you back in the eyes. "I love you." 

 


	45. Snowfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's make deals and plans that get us buried in the snow.

Getting Jack his gun again was a bit more difficult than you anticipated. You were each underprepared and overconfident in your abilities to get past the secured lines to steal such a highly militarized weapon. At the first facility, you set off alarms on the perimeter, the second facility had you both running from security guards with literal jetpacks, by the third you came to realize it was going to take a lot more planning than just showing up and hoping you could get past the heavily armed security. After too many failures, you both relented and made your way home, thinking up a plan of attack that didn't involve anyone getting hurt in the process.

"Sombra sent some of the locations where Talon is doing their arms deals, we should be able to attack one of those and at least get something similar to what you worked with in Overwatch. It won't be the same, but at least it will be something. Then we can get back out there to find Jesse." You mused as you scrolled through endless files on a foggy morning. Jack was setting breakfast down to sit at the table with you, he sighed and grumbled something beneath his breath. 

“I know you want McCree here to chase Gabe down with you, but I’m still no closer to finding out what really happened with Overwatch. You know I’ll do anything I can to help you with Gabe, but I can’t put my goals to the side while we do it.” He tapped his spoon against his bowl, seemingly losing his appetite. “We can still look for him, but I want to start dismantling all the small places Talon is gaining power in. We need to start knocking them down anywhere we can, otherwise, they're just going to keep growing. If we could just get ahold of all their businesses and properties then maybe we could start bringing them down."

He was right. He'd been more than patient with your wild goose chase of a friend who seemed more than happy to be on the run. Your eyes fell to the orb on the other side of the room, an invitation from Talon that you should have just thrown out, but now ideas were creeping into your mind about how you could get your hands on the more _shady_ dealings they had. Jack saw the look on your face, saw the way you were turning gears in your mind as you stared at the metal orb.

"Absolutely not." He leaned forward, dropping to his commander's voice. "You're staying away from Max, there's no deal you could cut with him that would ever end up being worth it. He's got too many people on his side, people that are _good_ at what they do."

"He's sold them out before, he could be willing to do it again if there's a member he wants gone." 

"Even if you did go meet him, what do we have to offer? He already has some of the best hackers in the world on his payroll."

"He sent me that invite when he had some of the best." You pointed your spoon to the orb. "Clearly he thinks I can do something others can't. Let me at least go see what he has to say, if he's not willing to give up some viable piece of information then we move on and try something else. At least let me try." 

You stared at each other with unwavering eyes. He still wanted to be your commander, to have a plan and have all the pieces neatly organized. Playing it fast and loose was never his style and you could tell just how much that worried him. Reaching for his hand, you laced fingers between his and dropped your spoon to the bowl. With a half grunt, he covered his mouth and pushed his hand over his face. 

"I just don't want to put you in danger." He sighed, fingers tightening around yours. 

"Trust me, I can handle that pushover of an omnic. I'll surprise him, head to Monaco and catch him off guard. If he doesn't agree to my terms then and there, then all offers are off and we'll come up with something else." 

Jack agreed with a lot of hesitation. Over toasted oats and fruit from a farm down the road you tried to go over as much of this barely put together plan as you could. Jack chewed at the corner of his lip all day, would at random times surprise you with tight hugs from behind and kisses to the dip of your neck. You'd be leaving without him, something that you hated but knew had to be done, but he wasn't making it easier by trying to hold you close and whisper lovely little things against your ear. 

You slept with your hand in his, resting over his heart as you spooned him. His body was warm as you curled against him beneath an old faded quilt, but you didn't care, all you wanted was for him to know that no matter how far apart you'd be, your love would still hold him. 

As gray light rose through the windows you stirred awake and found at some point in the night you'd rolled onto your back. Jack was laying flat too, his chest rising and falling with steady deep breaths between little snores. You smiled to yourself, eyes running over the way his scars fell over his skin, and you found yourself trailing down over hard abs with feather light touches. Still partially asleep, you watched as the corners of his lips lifted, as his hips twisted to follow you. A hum left you as you pressed forward and kissed at a strong bicep, one hand tracing over him as the other pulled down your panties and shorts. 

When he cracked open his eyes, you'd climbed on top of him, knees pressing into the mattress on either side and his hands wandering up uncovered thighs. You pulled your shirt off and leaned forward to kiss at his forehead. 

"Don't you have a plane to catch?" His morning voice cracked out, but a smirk was creeping across his lips. Between your legs you could feel him growing hard, his hips rolling between yours to press you closer to him.  

"Shh." You placed a finger to his lips and sat back up, stretching and cracking tired bones as if you weren't knowingly rutting yourself against him. 

A low groan left his throat, rough fingers trailed up the insides of your thighs until a thumb was resting just above your clit. Your hands landed over his abs, nails curling against him as you methodically circled your hips and rubbed yourself against him. He pushed the back of his head into his pillow, hair jostled with sleep and face sheened with cold sweat as you perfectly adjusted yourself so you were rubbing your folds over the outline of him against his boxer briefs. One of his hands lazily ran up to rest on the curve of your hip, guiding you with your slow movements as you worked yourself against him. His other pushed to the top of your slit, little circles against your nub that made you sigh and drop your head back.  

Blush was spreading across his cheeks, pink against pale that made his eyes stand out against the bed. You smiled as you looked down at him, hair falling in your face without a care, but you were locked on his half-lidded sleepy gaze that was lost in an immeasurable pleasure of you humping away over his underwear. He was hard, almost painfully so, and you could feel every throb between your legs that told you he wanted so badly to flip you over and pin you down, but he was letting you do all the work for him, he wanted you to be completely in control of it. 

"You're so damn beautiful." He sighed squeezing at your hip and rolling his head against the pillow.

"You're not so bad looking yourself." You smiled out as a soft moan fell from your lips. His finger was pushing harder, little circles getting faster. "I fucking love you. You know that?"

He let out a lust filled chuckle beneath you, his body animating more as he fully woke up. His hips bucked, sending a spike of heat through your body and all the air in your lungs into a hard gasp. That stupid smug smirk spread across his face and he moved both hands to grip against either hip and hold you against him. As he held you there he buckled hard against your body, pushing his length against your slit and over your clit as you fell forward landing your palms against him for support. Satisfied he was more than awake to move now, he held you hard as he flipped you around on the bed and laid you with your back to the mattress. Still rubbing his covered cock against you, he smiled and leaned forward, kissing at the end of your nose and along your cheeks as he guided your knees to his wait and waited for you to hook your ankles around his back. 

"I love you, even when you're a little tease." His voice was low, grumbling almost, but smiling. 

Between your legs his hands fumbled with the front of his underwear, freeing himself before he was back to rubbing his now uncovered length along your wet folds. With an impatient sigh he pushed forward, slowly burying himself in you as his face was buried in your neck and his lips were kissing along your throat. You dug nails into the back of his hair, curling your toes as he drove slowly deeper into you, filling you by knocking the wind out of you, but also completely to a point that every nerve in your body was coursing with heat. His kisses trailed back to your jaw, lips landing over yours the moment he was completely hilted in you and he paused to look you in the eyes and nuzzle noses together. 

In the cool light of morning, over old sheets with faded flannel patterns, he took you slowly. He kissed you with the carefulness of someone who wouldn't ever see you again. His hands held your face as his hips between your legs and you held on to him wanting a morning like that to never end. There were times he could be so gentle. So loving and his voice so sweet that it made your heart melt into a little pool in your chest. The way he made you feel, even during such a heated thing like sex, it was so special and warm and it had you whimpering out all the ways you loved him and how much you love his stupid smile and his stupid hair and his stupid righteous attitude. 

The way he moved made your body ripple with pleasure, your spine rolled against the bed pushing your chest to his. He would kiss at your neck and down your chest before returning to your lips in a fever needing to kiss you as you spilled over against him. You loved waking him up like this, even if you teased him, tortured him by humping away in his lap forever, he would always wait until you came, always waiting to release until your body pulsed with a final wave and relaxed against the bed. Then he'd hold your thighs against his side, driving into your again and again as your fingers curled against his back until he was moaning out your name and filling you with a smile on his face.  

You laid with him beneath ruined sheets for a while, quietly talking about how the day would go, this thumb rubbing the outside of your hand as you held it next to the pillow. Your eyes fell to his fingers, laced with yours as they played with your white and black ring. 

"What kind of ring do you want?" You asked through a long breath. 

"You don't have to do that." He half chuckled, but you stayed serious, locking eyes with his and waiting. 

"I'm getting you a ring." It almost sounded like a threat, but it was coming from a place of endearment.

"Well-" He laughed nervously. "Anything you pick out, I'll love." 

You leaned forward, kissing him between the eyes before carefully rolling to the side of the bed and onto your feet. He watched as you dressed and zipped up your luggage ready for a flight away to meet with an international terrorist, he seemed almost shy at the thought of having a ring and that made you blush like a schoolgirl with a crush. All through the morning, you mulled over the types of rings you could get him but came to the conclusion that looking at rings would probably be the first step in the process. Still half naked and hair sticking in all different directions, he walked you to the car, kissing you goodbye and wishing you luck on your mission. With an uttered goodbye and a long kiss you were off, driving down the lonely Indiana roads to the airport, heading off meet with Max.   

* * *

“Ah, Mrs. Morrison. A pleasure to run into you here.” A robotic voice cooed at you as you were checking in to an overpriced Monaco hotel.

Your heart almost beat out of your throat, now that was a familiar omnic tone you never wanted to hear again and although you were here to see him, you didn't expect to see him so _soon_. You turned to look over your shoulder, staring at his blank expression.

“Maximilien, can’t say I could return the pleasure. Don’t tell me this place is under Talon’s operations.” 

“No, of course not my darling. Every smart businessman knows not to keep all their eggs in one basket.” He placed gentle omnic fingers at the base of your spine, leaning at your side towards the agent standing behind the front desk. "Upgrade Mrs. Morrison to the Anglican Suite, s'il vous plaît."

"Sir, one of our high rollers is currently occupying-"

"Remove them. This is an honored guest." He turned back to look at you, robotic lids falling over fake eyes that unsettled you to your core. "Free of charge, of course. It's not every day we have someone as special as this in our company." 

“Get your hand off of me or I will shove it so far up your robotic-”

“I'm sure it will take a few moments for my team to thoroughly clean the room, join me for an early dinner won't you?” He retracted his hand quickly, and you stared at the front desk agent who was red in the face frantically typing away at the screen in front of her. “I'd love to find out why you've traveled so far from Indiana all by your self." 

Reluctantly you walked away from the agent who watched you with wide eyes. Max guided you to a restaurant on the second floor, away from the smoke of the casino and the murmurs of busy crowds. He leaned in close to the hostess who darted her eyes between the dining area and you before running to the waiters to gather them. As you waited in silence, everyone who was sat at their tables was cleared out, each dressed much more formally than you- compared to your farm dirtied jeans and loose blouse their fitted suits and evening dresses, you looked entirely out of place. 

Once it was completely cleared, an omnic with a chipper voice seated you at a table in the center, the room was bathed in soft blue as you were in a seat overlooking a built-in floor to ceiling aquarium. You watched with awe as a full-sized shark glided past the glass and it struck you just how truly wealthy Max must be, how much power he must truly have to still be free even after everything he's done to aid Talon. What smacked you in the face even harder was Max ordering you a bottle of wine that cost more than you used to make in a year of working at Overwatch. You tried to beg the waiter not to bring it, but Max insisted, unrelenting in allowing you to deny such an expensive gift. He lowed his tone as he spoke to you when the wine was poured into a glass at your side.  

"It's a surprise to see you here unexpectedly after no response for almost two years." 

"Has it really almost been two years?" You looked to the glass, wine settling but your stomach was churning. 

"You must have felt so lonely all this time. How have you been holding up, mon ange?" He leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. "Well, I hope?" 

"Don't try to sweet talk me." You grimaced at him, refusing to touch the drink. 

"Then I assume you would prefer to get right to business?" He sounded annoyed, you were sure if he could roll his eyes he would. Between his fingers a bright gold coin appeared, flipping nervously between them. "Picture this. There I was, enjoying a lovely vacation to one of my properties in Rialto when I get the frantic message that all the Talon leaders are being called to an emergency meeting. Tishler has been murdered by a close-range shotgun, and his little hacker who he was working so hard to reprogram has somehow escaped capture. Then, weeks later, Reaper decides he's the leader now and is pushing all the old leadership out. Within months, Talon is turned on its head and I am left as nothing more than I started, a mere accountant. Do you understand where I'm going with this?"    

"You want Reaper out of the picture?" Your heart was in your throat. You were so sure he'd want to remove someone from power, but you weren't prepared for it to be the only person you knew _too much_ about. 

"Precisely." He leaned back in his chair, face turning to the color fish floating by. "I understand it has never been your intention to work for Talon, and I want to be very clear that is not what I am asking you to do. I am asking you to work for me exclusively. I would like your help in determining who this Reaper is and the true threat he possesses to the empires I have built from the ground up. It would be a win-win for you, taking down a known Talon operative and getting a favor out of it. Your help would be invaluable to me." 

"I can't do this out of the kindness of my heart, Max. You know this." Suddenly that glass of wine looked more appealing than ever. You scrunched your face and looked to him before raising a finger in the air and lifted the glass to your lips. With a disgruntled frown, you tipped it, chugging down wine that was more than your monthly salary. He stared, you think with a horrified expression, as you drank in one long breath until the glass was empty and set down hard against the table. "I want the financial information and locations of Talon operations, especially ones in the medical or financial fields."

"Fascinating. For what purpose would you be interested in those?"

"I have some clients that are interested in taking Talon down a few pegs."

"You understand you'd be attacking my own businesses?" 

"You're a smart man, Max. I'm sure you could find some way to make money off it, but it would need to stay outside of Talon pocketbooks."

"This is truly a surprise." He was practically purring at you, fingers falling the stem of your empty wine glass before he poured you another drink from the bottle. "A toast then, to celebrate a newly formed partnership." 

That was the problem with men like Max. They were easy. Scummy, easy to manipulate, but you knew you needed to be on your toes. While you were scheming of ways to take out their partnered businesses, he was likely thinking of all the ways he could scam you out of real information. You didn't trust him, you knew you couldn't, but you were playing along with his little charade of dinner. You wined and dined with him over a meal he couldn't eat until you were pink in the cheeks from too much wine and embarrassed you'd let yourself slip in front of him. 

At the end of dinner, he walked you to your room. The top floor, only accessible with a key card and all the way to the end of the hall, the room had grand doors that opened to a seating area overlooking dark ocean waters and a port filled with yhats worth more than the farm. He left you with your hand in his, raised to his face as if he would kiss it if he had lips before a small bow and a quiet exit. Once you swept the room for any listening devices or any cameras, you were on the phone telling Jack all about the day about the deal you struck, and although you set out what you meant to do there was still this hint of disappointment in his voice.      

"I just thought we might be able to do this some other way." He sighed and you could just picture him massaging his temples.

"I'm not going to give him anything real, you know that Jack. Maybe just enough for a breadcrumb trail, but I won't let him find out Gabe's identity. This is going to work, I promise you." 

"I trust you, I do, it's just-"

A knock. An unfamiliar knock at your hotel door so late in the night. You shushed Jack and told him under your breath that you'd call him back as you hung up and threw the phone to the side. You pulled over a loose sweatshirt, covering the ends of your shorts with it before you peered through a peephole in the door. 

Max. Max was outside your door, his suit jacket and tie missing, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows and buttons undone halfway. You paused to make a twisted face at yourself, toes curling over cold marble on the floor before you slowly opened the door just enough for a sliver of you to be visible. 

"Didn't think I'd see you so soon again, Max." You said not masking any of the confusion in your voice. 

"I was hoping, perhaps you would be open to some company." 

"It's almost two in the morning."

"I hope I didn't wake you." His hands were twisting together in front of him, you watched as he moved with the same nervousness as a human. Maybe it was just because you were half drunk and too trusting, but you opened the door wider, waiting patiently as he waltzed into the room and straight to the large window overlooking the port. A few moments of silence passed as you waited for him to say something, but he seemed somehow lost in thought before he turned back to face you. "For the record, I did not agree to Tishler's methods to capture you. That man was a monster in all senses of the word and I am glad he was removed so violently from this earth."  

"Thank you?" Your arms were hugging themselves close to your body, everything in your stance told him how uncomfortable you were.

"I am not a bad guy." He was trying to convince you with sincerity in his voice, but good men don't allow what he's allowed to happen on his properties. "My intentions are never for anyone to be hurt or killed. Surely you, of all people, must understand that with your experience working in Overwatch?" 

"You're not going to get my sympathy." You warned, lowering your arms and joining him at the window standing far enough away that you could attack him if he tried anything. He looked into darkness in a longing silence, his robotic eyes blinking even though they didn't need to. "Why did you come here?" 

"Not many people are as bold as you, I admire it. In some ways, I wish I could have the confidence you have." He was adjusting the ends of rolled up sleeves. "Every day I am surrounded by agents who listen to my every demand, they stare at me blankly and would do whatever I tell them. You are so different. Demanding and honest, it's a strength I wish many more people had. Right now, the work I do is very lonely and monotonous. Day to day operations become tedious, but you have sent a ripple through that simplicity. I'm sure you must feel the same way, alone on that farm all the time."

Oh. 

Now this was something you weren't sure you'd ever experience. An omnic capable of such evil who was admitting to you feelings a human would have. It almost made you laugh, you were sure it must have been some trick, some stupid game to see how desperate you were for his information. He was nervously playing with the pin on his shirt, adjusting it so it was perfectly straight as you were bouncing your foot and crossing your arms.  

"I am used to getting what I want if I'm willing to pay enough for it." He finally said now bringing his face to meet yours. "I want a woman like you. Bold with an edge that pushes moral lines. Perhaps we could make an adjustment to our terms-" 

"Get the fuck out of my room." You snarled. Gross. Gross, so fucking gross that you didn't even want to think about it. "You're just as disgusting as Tishler, don't ever think you're better than him because you're _not_." 

He looked away from you, maybe even with an expression of hurt rejection before nodding and lowering his head as he walked to the door. His hand paused over the handle, head boxed in shame unable to face you.  

"I am sorry to have bothered you, Mrs. Morrison." 

The door slammed behind him as your heart was racing. You wanted to throw up. All men in power are the same, scumbags looking after their own interests and it frustrated you to absolutely no end. 

Even worse, you were woken to housekeeping and security knocking at six in the morning. 

"Our apologies, ma'am. You are being vacated from the room under Maximilian's orders, he wants us to make it clear any negotiations he's previously made with you are now no longer valid and he'd like you to leave the property."

You stared dead faced at a poor security guard who had nothing to do with the situation, but all you wanted to do was rip his ribs from his body. The patiently waited as you repacked your bag and led you down to the lobby where outside a town car was waiting to send you back to the airport and on a flight back to Indiana. Clearly, Max hadn't trained them the way Talon agents were trained. You paid off the driver to wait for you as you hurried back into the hotel and down to the lower levels where rows of shops were laid out along fancy halls. The moment you spotted the jewelry shop you couldn't stop the wicked smirk from your face and b-lined it straight to a men's ring display. Ring after ring showed off sparkles and jewels that all seemed much too extravagant until a woman with trusting eyes wandered over to ask what you needed help with. You pointed to the first ring you saw that looked just large enough for Jack's finger and smiled sweetly. 

"I'm looking to buy my husband a ring. Could I see this one?" 

"Of course." She replied with a customer service smile before unlocking the glass and placing the ring in your hands. 

Plain platinum band, size 13, it was perfect. You pretended to _mm_ and _ahh_ over it with indecision, twirling it around in your fingers before asking her if they possibly had anything else similar to it. Too trusting, she let you hold it as she moved to another case and before she could even turn around to check on you, alarms were going off as you sprinted from the door. Behind you there was yelling, but you knew _exactly_ who this profited if you bought it and knowing you'd stolen from Max even just the insignificant amount of a few thousand dollars worth was enough to pump your adrenaline to get you to the car fast enough that security couldn't catch you.   

You were antsy the whole flight, afraid Talon agents would pop out and find you, afraid Arntz would be right around a corner ready to drive a scalpel into your throat just like you were with Tishler. But, you managed to keep your return a secret until Jack was running out from the house as you pulled in to the driveway after a long flight. You were too excited, even though you were exhausted, you had to give it to him otherwise you were afraid your heart was going to beat out of your chest. 

As soon as he met you at the car you shoved open the door and fell to a knee in front of him. He stepped back in a confused haze wanting to reach for you but curious why you were reaching into your pocket.

"Jack fucking Morrison." You panted, already out of breath from your excitement. "You have been the biggest pain in my ass, the worse thorn in my side, the man who has made me the happiest person alive and the only one who has accepted me for each and every one of my flaws-"

"Wha-"

"I never, _ever_ , would have thought I could have ever loved you the way I do now. You always talk about deserving me and becoming a better man for me, but Jack you've been the one to show me what true strength and determination is. I want to make you so proud, I love you so much more than I could ever in my life put into words-" 

"Sweetheart-" His eyes were watering. 

"I love you, you big fool." You stood, hands shaking as you opened a palm to reveal the ring. "And I, I didn't exactly get to do what I wanted in Monaco, but I did get you a ring and I hope you'll take this as a symbol for our marriage. My life genuinely would not be the same without you. I love you, Jack."  

Tears fell from his cheeks and down over smiling lips before he crashed forward in a deep kiss. His big hands encompassed yours, closing around them, curling with a gentleness that almost made you cry too. He stilled as you slipped the ring over, down on a thick finger but the ring fit him perfectly and that's all you could have ever asked for. He kissed you so long his tears dried and he was pressing you to the side of the car, his body holding you, pinning you with all his strength as he whispered against your lips how much he loved you too. Even though you were too excited to give it to him, having not even come up with a solid speech, you wrapped your arms over his neck and kissed him back until he finally dragged you into the house to announce that Sombra had some urgent news and needed you to call her. 

“We’re going deep into the Northwest Territories of Canada, some insane Talon bunker where they hold prisoners. I can’t promise you anything, but Reaper was mentioning they’re bringing in someone from Blackwatch. Dr. O’Deorain has been acting really nervous about it. I think it might be one of your guys.”

“Shit.” You sighed as you chewed at the end of your nail. Your heartbeat felt like it was racing a million miles a minute. “We need to get up there with you. I need to know who it is. Is there any way we’d be able to follow you without being traced?”

“I could probably protect you with the transportation, but I’ve never been inside before, I have no idea what kind of security measures this place has. Even if I can get you up there, you need to take extra precautions. You'd need someone on the outside, the perimeter and on the inside, this is a three-person job at least and I can't be the one to help you with it." She sounded scared. "Reaper's been acting angrier than usual recently, jefe. Something's up with him but I can't get back into his room to check that stupid journal of his and things are feeling a lot more serious." 

"That's not good news, Sombra." You sighed as you paced across the wood grain. "Listen, I'll figure it out. Just send me the transportation details and the time, come hell or high water we'll meet you there. I'm not letting my family down." 

Jack looked to you with sweeping nervousness. 

You already knew who you could bring along to watch the outside and even though you absolutely loathed the idea of it, you fired off a scathing threat to a bowed sniper who you knew you could force to come along with you.

* * *

"Who the hell is this?" You raised a handgun to a man sitting next to Sombra in the back of an armored vehicle. 

He raised his hands into the air and stared into the broken reflection of your mask. 

"Relax, this is Baptiste. He's a friend. We can trust him." She said motioning for you to lower your weapon. You stayed statue still as you watched the man nervously glancing between you and Sombra. Jack, with his face covered in a mask and decked out in blue cameo, leaned on his knees to rally between all of you. 

“This is likely going to be rough ride, but if we play it smart we can all get out of this alive. Sombra once we dock go for business as usual, since your reports indicate that Reaper should already be in the facility we should have no one other than us exiting or entering the facility. Hanzo, we’re trusting you to keep an outside watch, we don’t want any surprise visitors. Once me and Lightening are in, we’ll knock out one of the guards for the high priority holding cells and I’ll disguise myself so Sombra can take me back as far as she can until we have to split." His mask turned to you, red line glowing against your reflective shards sending red bouncing across the car. "I’ll need you to both hack remotely for me and watch over the agent if they wake up. We’re doing this clean, I don’t want to draw attention to any of us. We’re outnumbered, outgunned, and it is not worth the risk of dying over this- especially if agent McCree is not being held here.”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded to your commander, pulling an oversized hood down past your mask so no cameras could catch the shiny reflection. At your side Hanzo readied his bow, unlike you and Jack he was bundled in weather protective white. He'd be heading into the thick snow to set up for surveillance as you worked on the inside.  

Here's the thing about having plans, they work so long as there are no hitches. Plans work if you don't have emotions involved. Plans work when you have a sniper high on a snowy mountain, when you have a disguised super soldier deep in the halls of a buried bunker.  Plans work when you expect certain things to happen and certain people to be where they should. 

"There's no Overwatch or Blackwatch prisoners here, this is a trap." Jack hissed into his earpiece as you heard his heavy footsteps echoing.  

Plans don't work when you're three hours into hiding in a darkened visitors room and you hear something that makes your stomach drop out of you. 

"Someone's leaving." Hanzo said as calm and collected as he could. "It's the Reaper, he has a man with white dreadlocks in handcuffs being led by... eight agents." 

"They did have someone, our timing was just off." You were ready to start cursing. Outside of the visitor's room an army of footsteps was passing, you almost let out a cry as you recognized Gabe's heavy steps in them. Your throat was tight but you knew in your gut you couldn't leave well enough alone. "I have to go after him."   

"Stay in position! This mission is over." Jack scolded, but you knew he wouldn't make it to you in time. 

With a deep breath, you peeked from the door, stepping over a passed out agent laying in his underclothes. Reaper was at the end of the hall pointing with a taloned finger towards a split directing agents where to go before he wandered alone through double doors into the transportation area. You could feel every heartbeat, could feel your pulse against your skin and you knew this might just be your only chance to get him alone, so you ran after him. It was like this fear, this anger overtook you and before you could even process it you cam kicking through the doors and running straight at him as he stood alone looking over an empty cold landscape. 

He heard you running at him in the snow, heard the crunching beneath your boots and fell to smoke before you could lunge at him to take him from down from the knees. When he materialized again he was at your side, mask dropped to the side watching you with curiosity as you threw punches and tried to bring him to the snow. He was only amused by you for a moment before he was landing hard blows against your stomach and loud cracks against your armor.   

There was something so horrible, sickening even, to be fighting him like this. Years ago he’d taught you how to take him down, how to bring him to his knees and make him beg for his life, but now he was in full and complete control of every aspect of his body. If he couldn’t dodge a fist instead his shoulder would burst into smoke and you’d go stumbling forward. Instead of grappling his legs he’d fall to the floor only to materialize back around you. He'd taught you to fight him, but not like this. You wanted to take him down but it was becoming horribly clear you couldn't.

"Get into my view, I can help you!" Hanzo demanded through gritted teeth, but you couldn't focus on moving the fight. 

Now you were kicking yourself for wasting Moira's serum to prove a point. Maybe if you had it you could have hit him just enough to take him down, could force him to look into your eyes and make him see what he's become. Now it just hurt. Now he was fighting you with little care and you were putting your all into it, but it still wasn't enough. As you punched towards Reaper with one of Genji’s blade in your hand, a clawed fist caught you in the stomach knocking the wind out of you, his other grabbed your wrist in the air and the empty black eyes of his mask seemed to stare at the blade until you were shaking. It was freezing, but you were sweating, drops rolling down the side of your face beneath the mask as your mind buffered at the thought that maybe, just maybe, he recognized the blade.

In a tensely silent moment, you kicked up, the bottom of your boot landing on his gut, pushing him far from you sending snow into the air. Flakes were falling from the sky, big ones that were sticking to the white on the ground, flakes that obscured your vision of him as he stumbled back to his feet. 

"Gabe-!" His name left you in a half sob. Your vision was going blurry, emotions were mixing in you and all you wanted to do was shake him and force him to see you, why couldn't he just stop fighting for a second? 

While you were staring at his black form to see what he would do, guards were shouting behind you, guns raising and laser sights pointed at your torso, but none of them were prepared for what was coming. You turned, snapping towards them with a scream ripping from your chest and you felt blinded, but your sight had never been sharper. In a world of black and white your processed who was pulling the trigger first and ducked from their shot, barrelling down to the ground straight towards them before Genji's blade was plunged in the vulnerable spot of the neck on their armor, ripping away sending blood to the white snow below. 

“What are you doing-” Hanzo’s voice gasped in your headset.

Your head hurt. You only looked away for a second, you only looked through the thick snowfall for a moment before you turned back and you were surrounded by a gruesome mess. Your mind crashed back into your body and sent you reeling to the ground. Soaking into the snow, slowly being covered as it fell from the sky, bodies of Talon agents laid twisted and broken against the white. Blood that to you looked dark as ink was spreading between them, moving as little rivers forming veins all around you, trails that meshed together to form the twisted death piece you'd created with a slaughter of agents who couldn't have known better. You fell to your knees in the snow. You were cold but your insides were burning. You were horrified but you were beyond calm. 

A whizzing passed by your head, your eyes followed the noise of an arrow as it flew by you straight to Reaper who was bearing his weight on the side of the complex watching the scene. He stuck out like a neon sign in his black uniform, his white mask fixated on you and a claw digging into the stone wall as he leaned against it. Your eyes fell on him the moment one of Hanzo’s arrows hit, striking him directly in the thigh. His body curled in on itself as it struck through and appeared on the other side, little drops of blood spattered across the snow beneath him.

In numb shock, you curled to the ground, holding your head as it pounded with a horrific headache. 

"He's gone." Hanzo curtly said in your earpiece. You lifted your eyes to see black smoke fading over the walls edge and Hanzo's arrow falling to the snow. 

Jack came running from the facility, demanding that Hanzo get down and into the transport as quickly as possible before he stopped to look over the carnage you'd wrecked. Behind him, the man from the transport was running too, hurrying him into the armored car and seemingly unfazed by your mess. Jack had to pry you from the snow, had to force you to look to his mask and remain lucid enough to comprehend that you needed to get out of there as a myriad of voices came shouting from the complex.

You stayed silent in the back of a covered military vehicle, swaying with rough roads between Jack and Hanzo. Jack’s hand was loosely holding yours as your other gripped your mask tight to your stomach. Across the vehicle you were staring blankly, mind refusing to process what you’d done. Jack was asking Hanzo to tell him what happened out there, his voice rising with each _'Shimada'_ that was leaving his lips. You were getting queezier each time he remained silent, your insides twisting around in a knot that kept getting tighter the more you thought about him killing his own brother but not even being able to vocalize the atrocities he watched you do.  

"Reaper." Jack growled beneath his breath in defeat as he dropped his head to hands.  

“There's too much of him in me.” You whispered, fear and shame making your voice shake. "I'm just like him." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone that's still reading! T^T I know it's been a crazy ride and as we're nearing the end I really can't put into words how much I appreciate all of you for sticking around! <3333


	46. Soldiers & Agents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow to Indiana to a visit in Switzerland.

Sombra's Talon friend drove your rag-tag team to a tiny snowed in airport that was out of operation for the season.  You stared at the open palms of your hands, waiting to see smoke rising from your gloves or to see anything that proved exactly what you thought: that you were becoming just like Gabe. Instead, all you saw was dried blood and warm breath puffing out in front of you. Everything inside of you hurt, it felt like your chest was tightening to a point where your heart would stop beating altogether. You didn't want to be a killer, you didn't want to lose control. That wasn't who you were. Jack's hand was resting on your wrist, squeezing loosely before it left you and he leaned towards the front of the armored vehicle.   

“Baptiste, was it?” Jack grunted behind his mask as he leaned towards the driver.   

“Jean-Baptiste Augustin, sir.” Finally a safe distance away from the holding base, you looked up to watch the agent as he pulled off his helmet. Out spilled dreadlocks and a charming, but clearly nervous, smile. “Sorry for the bumpy ride, I'm not much of a getaway driver. Sombra tells me I can trust you guys. I’ve been trying to leave Talon for a while but... I don’t have anywhere to go.”

The car shuddered as he powered it off behind a boarded up building where you would wait for a secondary ride to take you out of the country. As soon as the car stilled you burst from the doors into the snow and pried off your helmet, needing to take in as much cold air to your lungs as you could. You could feel Jack’s eyes lingering on you behind his red line of light, he was waiting for any sign that you were slipping back into your old habits of running off and crying, but you lifted your head and took in deep breaths, the snow felt so cold against the tip of your nose.

“Let’s chat before you head back to your base.” Jack said agent Augustin on his shoulder. They rounded the car, leaning against the hood and having a dulled conversation that sounded like a commander talking to a soldier, it was a conversation you had absolutely no interest in being a part of as you stared at the freezing blood on the front of your combat pants.

All you wanted to do was run back to that base and rip Gabe's stupid mask off him. You wanted to scream and push him and make him see what you've become, but you were also terrified that maybe somewhere deep down he'd be _happy_ you were like this. Not the Gabe you knew in Overwatch, no he'd be devastated, but the Gabe torturing people on a daily basis might even be sickeningly proud of you. You needed to talk to Moira, you needed to know just how far gone Gabe was and if there was ever a chance of him returning the man he used to be. The moment you were out of enemy territory you'd rip these bloody clothes off of you. As you were looking down, white snow boots stepped in front of your feet and Hanzo was clearing his throat as an invitation to look up. A heavy sigh left you along with a hot puff of air from your nose in front of your face as you lifted your eyes to meet his. 

“Who is Reaper to you?” Hanzo’s face was scrunched in anger, nostrils flaring as his cheeks pinked from the cold. Black hair fell in front of his eyes as you stared back struggling to find the words after being too shaken to come up with anything coherent.

“Family.” You finally whispered and fell back to lean against the wall of the airport.

“You called him Gabe.”

“No I didn’t.” Fuck. Did you?

"He is family to you?" Hanzo was staring at you with such anger in his eyes, anger that was slowly dropping to a soft understanding as he watched you holding back dry sobs.

"Family." You repeated quieter, nervousness and guilt were bubbling up in your throat before words blurted out from your lips. “I tried to stop him from being like that.”

“I imagine you have not always been like this either.” His arms were crossed but he was gesturing to the blood-soaked into your clothes. With his own deep sigh, he leaned against the wall next to you and stared out to the mountains disappearing in the distance behind the heavy snowfall. "I do not know _what_ either of you are, but I do know what it means to want your family back." 

You glared at him, as he stood close to you and his breath hit the air you watched how he kept his eyes forward. Above frosted cheeks, the ways his under eyes were darkened from years of death looked like they weighed his entire face down. With his hood no longer covering the top of his head, his hair was messy and littered with snowflakes. He had the same pouting face Genji used to have when he'd be off on one of his tirades, his mouth tightly pursed beneath a scrunching nose as if he was smelling something rancid. Your gaze fell to a partially hidden flask sticking out from his jacket pocket. Suddenly the bitter smell from his breath made sense.  

“You always drunk on missions or is this one special?”

“Tsk.” He snarled but then looked to the ground and dug the heel of his boot into now dirtied snow. “A few sips to keep me warm does not make me drunk.”

“You missed your shot at Reaper.”

“How do you know what I was aiming for?” He snapped to look at you. 

“Because all you do is kill.” You spat out in a blinding moment of anger. He sucked in a sharp breath between teeth.

“You know nothing of the life I have suffered because of my clan. We do not kill unless there is a purpose behind it. I was aiming for his leg because our mission was _not_ to kill, there would have been no honor.”

“Oh, but there was _honor_ when you-” Stop yourself. You turned mid-sentence with fists raised ready to land blows on Hanzo's jaw, almost allowing Genji’s name to slip. Instead, you swallowed your words and looked into his burning eyes as he grabbed your fists. His eyes looked so much like his brother’s.

“I do not kill without reason."He tightened his hands around your fists and squared his shoulders at you, daring you to tell him. "Do not test my patience."   

"Fuck you, Shimada." You punched into his hands then deflated, sinking back against the wall of the airport until you were sitting in the snow. You were angry. You were angry that he was more similar to you than he could ever believe. Both with loved ones still alive after death, each emerging into the world as new men. The only difference was you were chasing your demons, he was running from them. "Don't you ever fear it? Losing control, killing without reason?" 

"Of course." He slid down the wall next to you, sitting side by side. With a long breath, he paused as you both looked towards Jack and Baptiste, they had a holomap open and were routing out something. "There is a difference between those that kill with no remorse and those that do. I believe the only time you should begin to be afraid of yourself is the moment you begin finding pleasure in taking another life."  He reached for the flask in his jacket pocket, twisting off the cap before mumbling against the opening. "Or if you become numb to it." 

"Do you ever regret any of your kills?" Your voice was soft as you stared at him. His silence that followed seemed even more muted by the falling snow around his face. 

"One." Another swig and he was hissing as he ground his teeth together, flexing his jaw hard before capping the flask again. 

Snow was starting to build up on the top of your boots. Jack and Baptiste's forms at the car were blurring in the white flurry and freezing air was biting at your nose but a small part of you wanted to see Hanzo as human, as the big brother Genji should have had, for just a moment. He shoved his gloved hands between his knees trying to keep himself warm, you scooted closer, content with his answer enough to allow him a moment of gentleness. His body stiffened as you leaned against him, your head falling on his shoulder and your hand curling around the puffy arm of his snow jacket. In the silence you tried to imagine how Genji would feel if he knew, you couldn't decide if he'd be livid or thankful.

"You are... very strange." 

"Shut up or I'll go back to being mean." 

He grunted as if he was unhappy but you felt the way his body relaxed just enough to be comfortable again. Through the snow and the smell of exhaust from the car, the blood on your clothes and the flask in his jacket, even though the mission was a catastrophic failure, having a moment where you were watching a small team settling made you feel at home again. You closed your eyes, just enough to imagine your Blackwatch family again. Genji took Hanzo's place, Baptiste was now morphing into a cowboy clad in black arguing with a commander in a beanie. For a moment you could even hear them, your mind was reaching for their voices and their laughs and the way they used to tease each other endlessly about stupid things. You missed Jesse's smile, even when it was wrapped around a cigar. How long had it been since Gabe smiled? No, you couldn't think about that.

"Sunshine?" Jesse's voice echoed for you as you sucked in cold air and blinked open eyes to blinding white. 

"Sweetheart?" Jack's voice asked again, his hands reaching out to you as Hanzo shifted from your side. "Agent Augustin is leaving, our ride is here." 

He helped you to your feet, you groaned as he pulled your arms. The cold was making your shoulders hurt, aching right where you once popped your arms from their sockets trying to hold onto Jesse for dear life. Hanzo watched you carefully, studying the way you grimaced at the pain before helping by pushing at your shoulders until you were upright. Baptiste said a quick goodbye before jumping back into the Talon combat vehicle and hurrying away. 

"Aren't they going to be suspicious he left with us?" You yawned as Jack handed over your helmet and guided you towards a new car. 

"We came up with a cover story, he's going to tell them we took him hostage. Sombra already confirmed she'll back it up. She says sorry for the bad information, by the way, her timing was off." His arm hugged you to his side and he leaned his head down just enough to pressed the exposed top of his head to your forehead. "You doing okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm alright." You whispered back before lifting yourself on your tippy toes and placing a kiss to the top of his head. His hand at your back rubbed gently before you climbed into a driverless car ready to head back to Indiana. Hanzo settled across from you, Jack at your side, and you held your breath almost all the way until you were back on main roads before you started shedding the winter gear. "Hanzo I'd like to ask you to do something else for me... I'm not going to threaten you this time." 

"Yes...?" He was unzipping his jacket as well, moving hands to redo the ponytail at the back of his head. 

"There's someone I'm looking for but can't quite track down. He's gone completely off the grid and I think he's doing contract work. Any chance you're up for finding him?" 

"Is this person more of your _family?"_

"Yes, but he's a bit more eccentric. You'll probably find him wearing spurs and a cowboy hat even if he's sleeping." Your stomach was shifting, it felt strange to even ask for help, let alone from someone like Hanzo. "He's a good guy, I'm just afraid he might be slipping back into some bad habits." 

"So long as you pay my minimum rates, I accept your mission." He stared out the window at the now light snow. "Do you intend for me to kill this target?" 

"Kill him and I'll kill you." You deadpanned at him. "Oh, and one other thing, if you find him don't _ever_ tell him your name." 

* * *

The older you got, the older Jack got, the faster time seemed to go by. You watched and laughed with him as the last of his blonde hairs turned to white, he teased you calling you an old lady any time you groaned just a little too loud if you were stretching. For a long time you didn't hear back from Hanzo, it got to a point where you even believed he might have just taken your money and ran but every now and then he'd check in with leads and updates between other contracts he was taking when Jesse was seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth. Sombra and Moira were almost always far too busy to talk for more than a few minutes, something you found you were more than okay with because the more you thought about Gabe the more the fear you'd become like him ate away at you.  

Instead, with Jack you started attacking the smaller organizations of Talon. Without Max's help, even though it took much longer, you managed to find a way into certain systems and determine where Talon was spreading. They had a far reach, tangling deep into every culture and sinking its claws into all types of businesses. For a while, it was disheartening. They had agents doing everything from pharmaceutical work, university teachers, diplomats, weathermen, graphic designers, everyone, even retail workers, Talon had people everywhere and for a while it was almost too terrifying to think that just anyone could be involved and not even know it. 

You spend nights sitting on a rooftop in Dubai, feet hanging over the edge and eyes glaring down to a city below lost in the evening clouds. Down on the street Jack would be roughing up a pharmaceutical tech who once was considered a top combat medic with Overwatch- some agent who seemingly gained significantly more from the fall including a cushy job with known Talon ties.

It was hard work. It was grueling and it kept you behind masks, away from home, it was hard but it was worth it. While you and Jack were dismantling smaller parts of the organization you were too distracted to hear from Sombra or Hanzo, and you were fine with that. It kept you distracted from the times you'd slip, from the blinding moments where you'd be cornered and the next thing you knew you'd have Genji's blades in someone's throat and bodies at your feet. Each time it happened you felt another anchor of guilt. Each time it happened Jack was there to remind you there was nothing else you could have done. Each time it happened you could hear Hanzo's warning to you about becoming numb to it. 

"Keep your chin up." He'd smile at you when it felt like every mission was a failure. 

"We're not alone, we can do this." He'd remind you every time you landed back home on the farm.

"I love you, so much." He'd whisper in the mornings as you rolled on top of him. 

Your heart was unsettled by how quiet sightings of Arntz became. Every now and then you'd manage to get hits on her with facial recognition, grainy cameras would catch her wandering dark streets and each time you noticed her face was looking more hollow, her features turning an unsettling green tint. You last sighting of her, she'd shaved her head completely and you could see thick veins creeping over her skull. She was hunting, but she was completely alone. 

Every now and then you'd get reports from Sombra. She seemed to be integrating well, blending in with Talon and able to access almost everything you needed her to. Reaper continually sent her on lone missions, much to your dismay, barring her from being able to update you in how he was doing. Every now and then you'd get messages about her and her Talon friend from your mission in the snow, she'd go on for far too long about how she was trying to convince him to leave but he didn't think he could. Reports slowed down, becoming more and more infrequent.   

Before you knew it, years went by. 

You helped him attack one of the few Overwatch bases left, the Grand Mesa watchpoint where he was finally able to get his pulse rifle back. He hadn't smiled that wide in a long time, seeing the way he moved with its heavy familiar weight, watching the last piece of confidence fill into his stance was worth the adrenaline of being shot at. With his gun back, he was more determined than ever to find the truth about Overwatch and why so many people tied together so many lies. He still had the energy of the young blonde commander from the posters, but your faith in your part of his story was wavering. 

For you, it was almost a question of when rather than if you would snap and accidentally kill someone you loved. Jack didn't believe that, he refused to let you believe it, and every day he continued to build you up to be the person he knew you could be.    

It was during one of your visits back home, Glenn and Eden invited you to an early dinner at their home. You'd only taken a few bites of your food when an expensive car was moving slowly up their driveway so it didn't push up a ton of dirt to the paint. You stood, reaching for Genji's knives strapped to the side of your leg over jeans expecting the worst when out of the car came a business casual woman with tall hair and thin glasses. She dug through the passenger seat for a moment, you watched as she shoved in a notebook and checked the charge on recorders. 

"I think that's a journalist?" You said letting Glenn's white curtains fall to the cover the window. 

"Just in case, you better get outta sight Johhny." He waved Jack away who awkwardly made his way through their house and into a darkened room, leaving the door cracked.  

The woman had a sharp quick knock, almost as if she was too excited to be there. As soon as Glenn opened the door, she spoke with a high pitched voice and shook his hand hard over and over again.

"Name's Olympia Shaw with ATLAS News, oh gosh I'm so glad I caught you at home, I'm running a story on the six-year anniversary of the Overwatch headquarters explosion. I'm trying to learn a little more about former Strike Commander Jack Morrison, would you have a few minutes to chat with me?" She spoke so fast you almost thought you were going to get whiplash.

Glenn raised his brows and stepped back to allow her in.

"We're in the middle of dinner, so can't spend too much time with you but I'm always happy to talk up little Johhny." He stalled the reporter at the door for a moment as Eden grabbed Jack's plate from the table and handed it to you, quietly telling you to take it to the kitchen.  

You hurried away and nervously chewed at your nail before returning to shake hands with the reporter joining all of them in Glenn's homely living room. Her eyes lit up as you introduced yourself and shook her hand. 

"Forgive me for being forward, but aren't you the agent the commander was seen in pictures with at his house just-" She pointed the end of her pen towards the farm, excitingly shaking her head. 

"Yes, that was me." You forced a smile and you could hear the strain in your voice. "Ja-Commander Morrison left his home in my name, after he died." 

"You two must have been very close." 

"Would you like to hear how he was as a youngin'?" Glenn butted in seeing that you were holding your breath. 

You listened and sipped on a sweet tea that you never wished more than ever had been spiked with something as you were sweating at the thought of two neighbors and a grieving girlfriend described Jack Morrison's life. Glenn told her all about how he was as a child and a rambunctious teenager. Eden made jokes about him chasing the cows for fun. You offered the reporter some insight into Overwatch and his leadership, about how he really was the hero so many people made him out to be. Then she dropped her bombshell on you.

"Part of my story is actually about a theory that Commander Morrison survived the explosion and is currently operating under the cover of an alias called 'Soldier: 76'." She tapped her notes and looked down at messy sentences. You rolled your lips and briefly glared at the open door down the hall. He just _had_ to wear that jacket with his number, of course eventually someone was going to catch onto him. If you weren't plastering on a fake polite smile you'd stomp back there right then and slap him for being so dense. "I have growing evidence that it's him, including the fact that a prototype for his gun was just stolen from the Colorado facility by a man with the same if not exact physique and strength Commander Morrison had." She lifted her eyes look right in yours. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" 

"Jack has never once put a life in unnecessary risk." You smiled, as sweetly as you could and wrapped your hand around your scarred forearm. "Jack Morrison is buried, regardless of media coverage at the time I saw it myself and quite frankly I am offended that you would even have the audacity to imply he's running around as some masked vigilante."

"Oh... I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to offend-" 

"You have offended me Ms. Shaw. You did not come to Indiana to learn about Jack, you came here to snoop into the lives of the people he knew to see if anyone knows something about Solider 76. You should be completely ashamed of yourself. In fact, I would suggest you keep my name out of your article completely." You stood, scaring her into standing as well hugging her notebook to her chest. She stared at the ring on your finger and the hickey at the height of the neckline of your shirt. "Jack Morrison is dead. He has been for almost 6 years."

"I understand." She squeaked out, pushing up glasses sliding down her nose. "T-thank you for inviting me into your home, I appreciate your time." 

You walked her to the front door, snarling as you held it open and she stumbled out onto the wood clomping with her low heels. Glenn and Eden watched as they made their way back to the table. The reporter turned back to face you, once again staring at your ring before lifting your eyes to meet hers. 

"I know you don't have the best past with the press." She shifted her weight, eyes darting to your home in the distance. "People would love to hear from you." 

"Do you know what Talon is?" You growled, stepping out of the house with her. 

"Yes, I do." She seemed almost sheepish. 

"If you print my name in your article then it will become international news that you know where I am. Would you like me to remind you what Talon did to everyone I know? Would you like to see the autopsy photos of all the dead bodies I carried out from burning buildings?" You closed in on her, close enough that you could hear her trying to swallow with a dry throat. "Talon doesn't care about journalist integrity. They would torture you, your family, blackmail your friends and coworkers, they'd do everything in their power to find out where I am- something I've gone to great lengths to avoid. If you use my name or even imply you got any of your information from me, you better _hope_ Talon finds you before I do."

She stepped back, catching her heel on a crack and catching herself from falling before she hurried down the stairs and to her car. You watched her, all the way until her car disappeared in the distance before coming back inside to find Jack already back at the table eating a now very room temperature dinner. He was looking at you with a smirk, eyelids low almost as if he was ready to throw you over his shoulder and drag you home to the bedroom. 

"That's my girl." 

* * *

Just after the anniversary of the explosion, you got a call in the middle of the night from an unknown number. You activated the line as you laid in bed with Jack in your arms and your legs tucked against his. 

"We have a problem." Moira's tired voice rang over the receiver.  

"I haven't heard from you in over a year, _that's_ the problem." You immediately shot back, sitting up and accidentally waking up Jack in the process. 

 _"Forgive me_ for not having time to sit down and chat while I've been running a genetics department and keeping tabs on our mutual friend. I am actually doing work that doesn't involve babysitting him every day, you know." 

"Agh, I'm sorry Moira." You pinched the bridge of your nose as Jack turned on the bedside lamp. "I'm sorry, I know you're busy and it's nice to hear from you. What's going on?"  

"Gabriel-" She paused and that made your heart leap, Moira wasn't one to truly hesitate in saying something. "He remembers everything. Everything." 

You felt like you were being weighted down by an ocean's worth of pressure. You couldn't speak, Jack was watching the color drain from your face. 

"He has for... quite some time, actually, but all of his memories are jumbled around or he is remembering them with heightened paranoia. I have been working with him because he's angry, he thinks Overwatch gave up on him. He thinks everyone turned their backs on his work and on his life. He thinks they left him to let him die there." She cleared her throat. "I believe he may be going after former Blackwatch agents who is is convinced are traitors." 

"Does he know where I am?" 

"No. I told him you were living off of Spain near the former Gibraltar watchpoint. I am trying to figure out exactly what he thinks happened, but he seems fixated on anyone who was serving directly under Commander Lacroix. He left early this morning with a small crew of agents, if you are in contact with anyone from the Blackwatch team I would suggest warning them."  

"I appreciate it." You felt nauseous. "Keep me posted if you can, okay?" 

"Always." She hesitated after, not hanging up the phone how she usually would. "How have you been, my friend?" 

"Busy." You nervously chuckled under your breath, Jack's hand landed high on your thigh holding you anywhere he could reach while still half asleep. "Maybe I could fly out there one day and we can go out for a coffee, just like we used to." 

"I'd like that very much." 

You couldn't get back to sleep that night. Instead of spooning Jack, you flipped over and his big body cuddled up against yours. He kissed along the edge of your shoulder and over the side of your neck, holding you close until his body gave into sleep but you laid awake and very much in fear of what Gabe remembering everything meant. The next time you saw him you decided you wouldn't be keeping your mask on, if he knew who you were, you were going to force him to face you and explain himself or you'd hand him over to Jack. 

That day a car buzzed at the gate to the farm, a familiar face sat in the front and you hid Jack away in the bedroom as Baptiste exited with two bags at his shoulders. 

"I was hoping for a place to crash for a bit." He looked worn down, sporting a shaved head and a black eye with a split lip. He adjusted the straps on his shoulder. "I left Talon. For good. Is uh... is 76 here?" 

"Took you a couple years, agent."  Jack's voice came barking behind you. He walked out without his mask and your heart almost flung itself to another planet as you panicked at the thought of either of Baptiste seeing his face. "Glad to see you made it." 

You looked to Jack shaking your head mouthing 'what the fuck?' as you threw your hands in the air. He laughed as he came down the stairs and slipped an arm around your waist to greet the now former Talon agent. 

"I told Baptiste that if he ever had the guts to leave he was welcome here to get back on his feet." Jack was smiling and you were looking between the two men in disbelief.  

"You could have told me!" You mockingly hit his stomach. "Well, come on in then I guess." You led them into the house and Jack started on putting together a makeshift bedroom in the living room. 

"Sorry to show up unannounced. Sombra would have come with me, but there's something big happening at Talon and they're ramping up for some kind of attack. I couldn't take it anymore." He turned to Jack who was fluttering plaid sheets over the couch. "I can't thank you enough for your advice, sir."

"I know a good soldier when I see one." Jack had a smirk, one that was just too proud of himself. "We've got some contacts that we can put you in touch with for combat medic work, good people that could really use the help." 

"I'd appreciate that." Baptiste smiled and turned back to you. "If there's anything I can do around the house to help you both in the meantime, please let me know." 

For a few hours, it almost felt like you had a strange version of a family. Seeing Jack with his mask off and a borderline stranger in your home peaked off alarms in your brain, but they both seemed so comfortable as they talked about the types of combat they'd seen. It almost felt like you were a fly on the wall listening to two war buddies reminisce about their lives.  

That night you climbed into bed with the door to hall shut and Jack stretching after putting Baptiste to work in the field with him to help pull overgrown weeds. You waited until he was comfortable, until he was unsuspecting for you to lean close, to tease fingers at the top of his sweatpants and your body pressed to his as you whispered to him. 

 _"I know a good soldier when I see one."_ You mocked with a smile. "You trying to start our own little version of Overwatch here on the farm or do you just think he's cute?" 

He sputtered out, looking to you with glaring eyes but pinked cheeks. 

"As a commander, I know when someone shouldn't on a team and he did not belong with Talon." He leaned forward meeting your lips to his as your hand slipped beneath his waistband. "But, it didn't hurt that he's good looking." 

"Aww, well unfortunately for him, he can't have you." You were smiling as you kissed him back. "You're all mine." 

"Damn right." Jack grunted, arms bringing your body over his, pulling sheets along with you. 

You felt him grow between your legs as you brought one of his hands to your lips and kissed at overworked fingers covered in scars and callouses. Uncaring how rough they were you sucked two of them in, he pressed against your tongue and watched with a smile as you slowly circled your hips on his lap. His other hand held you loosely, allowing you to move and work your panties against the front of his pants until a dull ache built between your legs and you were shaking for more. 

As his fingers left your mouth you phone lit to light on the nightstand with an alert unlike you'd ever heard before. It startled both of you, he curled up putting his arms around your waist almost as if he was protecting you from an oncoming attack as you reached for it to read a message flashing in white an orange across your screen. You stared at it for a few moments too long, rereading the words over and over again until Jack pushed the top of the phone down to read it too. 

"They're recalling Overwatch?" He shifted beneath you, moving to get a better look. 

"This came from Athena, that has to mean Winston activated it." You shook your head and pushed hair to the side. "I don't understand, why now? Something must have happened." You slid your thumb over the alert moving it out of the way so you could call Winston. 

"Greetings, Agent 4213_00-" 

"Athena, what's going on?" 

"Winston has activated the Overwatch recall initiative, all agents are being contacted to-"

"No, Athena, did something happen?"

"We were attacked." _We_. You almost passed out at the use of we, Winston had made some significant improvements to the AI if she was able to consider herself as someone on the base with him. "Talon operatives attempted to detract all current Overwatch agent locations, Winson was able to stop them from gaining any unauthorized data and is unharmed." 

You stared at Jack who was wide-eyed and just as confused as you were.

"Was it Reaper?" Your voice almost broke as you asked.

"Indeed, it was." The line went silent as you dropped your forehead to Jack's shoulder. He hugged you close, arms wrapped at your back tightly. "Should I tell Winston you'll be joining us?"    

"Not yet." You sighed before lifting your face again and looked into Jack's eyes. His breath seemed caught in his throat. This was exactly what he'd been waiting for and he didn't even know it, an opportunity to lead again- to do things the right way. "There's some things I need to put into order first."

You felt like a failure. Everyday Reaper remained at large, every body he left behind, every story about him across news tickers, they all weighed your heart down with little anchors until it felt like your chest was so heavy that you couldn’t breathe. Jack believed Overwatch was his responsibility, you considered stopping Gabe yours. Your goals were running parallel to each other but focusing only on what Jack needed was unsettling your stomach to a point where you were going to be sick. It was another night of no sleep. Laid in bed side by side you had a long conversation with Jack about what going back would mean. People would figure out who he was, you'd be running tech for an illegal operation of underground agents. You went back and forth about what it meant to take part in the recall.

"I can't go back yet, Jack. I have to find Jesse first." You were frantically searching through your phone for the messages Hanzo had left, desperate for any new ones to pop up telling you he'd found your black-clad cowboy.

"Going back to Overwatch will only give us more resources to do exactly what we've been doing, just on a much wider scale." His hand squeezed yours. 

You wanted to join, you did, but a feeling deep in your gut was holding you back, a fear of the unknown going back into combat that made you woozy. 

In the morning you and Jack sat Baptiste down to go over options. He could either take a combat medic position with one of your contacts, or he could go to Overwatch and be part of the skeleton crew of agents starting over again. Had had his options, you wouldn't force him to decide after leaving another military organization so soon, but you genuinely hoped he'd chose to go to Overwatch so you could keep a closer eye on him. Just like you and Jack, he flip-flopped back and forth between decisions, in the meantime helping Jack around the farm as you double downed your efforts to find Jesse. 

Baptiste stayed on the farm with you and Jack for just under a week. Over that time you told him all about the things you'd done. About the missions you failed, about Overwatch falling, even about the lives you'd taken. He would tell you about his childhood, growing up in a war-torn city that you couldn't even bring yourself to imagine. Even through the horrors, he had a laugh that made you and Jack laugh- it was contagious almost. In such a short period of time, he started to feel like family, too. Until you woke one morning to find his bags gone, his rental car gone, and the couch he was sleeping on a mess. No note. No word. No decision. He left and you barely even knew the guy, but it sunk your heart into the earth that people just kept disappearing without warning.    

* * *

Months of indecision led you to finding yourself alone waiting on a bench in a mostly empty park beneath a black umbrella after a vague message. It was rainy in Switzerland that day, the skies gray and heavy as you watched a couple sharing a large polka-dot umbrella walking towards you on the dirt path. The rain was loud but your heartbeat was louder. The woman was smiling, her raincoat shined like a beacon bright yellow that drew all attention to her and away from the cyborg body walking at her side. You stood, water on your cheeks that you blamed on the rain as metal feet thudded across the ground in a sprint. 

As Genji lept into a giant hug, you dropped your umbrella, your arms held him as tight as you possibly could and you buried your face in his shoulder stopping the happiest sobs you'd ever let out. You could even find the words, couldn't form a single thought that wasn't just an overjoyed exclamation point in your brain realizing just how real he was again in your arms. You gasped and held him at arms length, his faceplate was off, hair soaking wet down over his head from rain, water falling across too many scars to count as you held his cheeks and looked him as deep as you could in his eyes. 

"I'm so sorry, Genji." You sobbed out, bringing him into another hug. "Fuck, I'm so sorry."

"I think it'd be better if we moved this inside, you two." Angela looked like she might cry too, she was motioning for you to follow her. 

Umbrella in hand and Genji at your side you held on tight to his arm as you followed them back to her modest apartment on the outskirts of the city across the street from the park. 

"I apologize for the cryptic message, I wanted to make sure it only got through to you. The former Overwatch officials are still trying to keep a close eye on Angela." Genji looked to her with worried eyes. She shook her head and put on a smile you could see right through.

"You worry too much about me, Genji." She kissed his cheek before pulling at the sleeves of her coat. "I will let you two catch up, I'm sure you have many things to discuss." 

You sat with Genji on a tiny perfectly placed couch of her living room, the large square window overlooked a sky rumbling with a storm but you paid no attention to the weather as Genji sat across from you looking happier than you had ever seen him. 

He asked you so many questions about the explosion, and what it was like for you since he wasn't there to experience it. His morbid curiosity about your life afterward poked into what you'd been doing all these years which you avoided with vague answers and opened ended responses, conveniently leaving out that Jack Morrison was sitting back at the house right then probably eagerly waiting for your return. He let you spout off about your life for far too long, you felt like you'd talked his ear off and was on the verge of boring him to death, but he never seemed disinterested or lost in the rain at the window.  

"How was Nepal?" You curled your hands around his as you sat sideways on the couch. "Angela said you went there to stay with a colony of omnics right?" 

"I did. I feel so different than I did in Overwatch. She helped me create a new body, but they helped me accept it." He smiled and chuckled as he stared your hands around his refusing to let go. "My teacher would have liked you, he was fascinated with my scars and would tell me they reminded him of the galaxy. I wonder what he would say about yours?" He followed your scars up your arm until he reached your face where he watched silent tears rolling down your cheek. "I'm no longer as angry as I used to be, they helped me learn to control the rage that I felt about behind different, unlike Commander Reyes who encouraged it." 

It was dark out now. Rain was still pounding on the window and far away rolls of thunder were breaking across the sky.  

"Genji..." You sucked in shuttering breaths. You let go with one hand, wiping away at your face with the back of your hand before opening the holder strapped to your thigh and revealing the blades he'd once given you.

"You still have them! After so long?" 

"They were one of the only things I had on me when the explosion happened." You pushed out a steadying breath. "Do you remember why you gave them to me?" 

"I do." His voice dropped to a somber tone, body adjusting against the couch. "I wanted you to be able to protect yourself because I believed it was Commander Reyes who hurt you... strangled you." 

"He was, Genji." You choked out finally after too many years. "He was but I need you to understand that it was an accident, an accident I forgave him for. Dammit, there's so much I never got to tell you and it's because I was way too blind to see that I was pushing everyone away."

You expected him to be disgusted in you, to push you away and tell you to never come around again. Instead, he fell forward, arms bringing you in for another hug. As he hugged you a hard pang of guilt hit your stomach, do you tell him? Do you tell him Reaper is Gabe, but a version of Gabe who's apparently lost his mind? Your fingers gripped into him as you buried your face against him. Another time.   

"You do not have to explain your reasoning to me." He pulled away, his eyes looked so soft and it was striking how different they were from the last time you saw him trying to say goodbye before he left Overwatch. "While I was away I also learned about letting things go, about forgiveness. They gave me the tools for this lesson, but I realized I am on the road to being able to forgive my brother for what he's done to me." 

"What- really? For _killing_ you?"  

"I went and found him at our home, he was honoring me and we fought before he realized who I was." 

Who was this man sitting in front of you? It certainly didn't seem like the fireball Genji you once knew, that Genji would have thrown his brother off the side of a building given the chance. As you watched his reaction, you realized just how much older he looked under all that scarring. The rain was easing, pounding at the window becoming lighter with every passing minute. 

“How’d it go?”

“Seeing him made me feel… immense sadness. He looked tired. Very much like our father. When I saw him, at first I was so angry, but he had this look after he realized it was me. He would have let me kill him and he was not going to fight me.”

“You didn’t kill him?” Now this made your stomach drop. Given the chance, fighting against someone who had done the worst thing in the world to you, you could only question if you'd be as strong to now kill them. 

“No. Right when I had my opportunity, when my blade was to his throat, I realized I did not want revenge. For him, I want redemption. I have not yet forgiven him for what he has done to me, but I think I may get there someday.”

You stared at him, at the scars riddling his face and the tubes embedded in his cybernetic body. Forgiveness was something you were all too familiar with, but something about the thought of him attempting to have a brotherly connection with the very person who did this to him, it made you bite your tongue. In the other room, you heard Angela shift on her feet, obviously listening in but not wanting to intrude. 

“You’ve grown up quite a lot since I’ve seen you, Genji.” Your eyes were watering, but you tried desperately to hold it back. “I think you should know that I've also had a few run-ins with your brother." 

Genji stared back at you blankly, as if he was processing what you were saying for just a little too long.

"When I last saw him, he wasn't doing well either. I think he's trying his best, I really do, but Genji-" Breathe out, breathe in- hopefully he won't get mad. "Actually, I have him out on a mission for me. You see, I haven't been able to find Jesse since the explosion, and I don't know, at the time it seemed like a good idea, but he's-" 

"Jesse will kill him." Genji was looking at you with such wide eyes. You were fearing that he'd be upset about sending his brother, the trained assassin, to find a former teammate but his first concern was _Jesse?_  Now you sat in silence, no more rain, no more shifting in the other room. Only the sound of your scared breathing. "He knows everything that my brother did, he hates him probably more than I do. If Jesse finds Hanzo first, he will kill him."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you feel that? The uncertainty of the end?


	47. Surrounded With Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Museums and London and Egypt, oh my!

Spending a weekend with Genji and Angela only furthered your wavering hesitancy to join Winston in Gibraltar. There was an unspoken tension between them anytime the recall of agents was brought up, Genji wanted nothing more than to rejoin the teams and put a busy mind to work. Angela would quietly fold her hands in her lap, biting her tongue, refusing to comment but you could see the fear of rejoining in her eyes. 

"We could rejoin together." Genji held your hands in his as you were saying your final goodbyes. "Think about it. Overwatch needs someone like you, we need some type of leader who will kick our butts if we get out of line." 

He was smiling, scars on his face lifting with hope that you'd drop your life and come with him, but now you had much more than just Jack to worry about. Now you were responsible for a hacker who'd gone radio silent while deep in a terrorist organization. Now you were looking over your shoulder for curls of black smoke wondering if a man in black would finally make good on all his fears of killing you. Now you had a combat medic who fled in the night, one who knew your secrets. Now you missing both a cowboy and a sniper, a pair who may very well be Now you had a dead man waiting for you on a porch swing. _Now_ was not the time to be running back to Overwatch.   

On the plane back home you made yourself laugh as you looked out the window. There was a time when you would have scoffed at the idea of join Overwatch, a time when contracts bound you tightly to a commander in blue and complete freedom seemed like an absolute impossibility. Things used to be simple, life used to be worrying about dinner at commissary and overheating beneath Jesse's blankets on summer nights. Your fist curled in your lap, nails digging into skin as you stared across endless blue over a plane wing. _Asshole_. Where the fuck could he have gone for six damn years? You needed him and he was gone with only a phone call, no way to contact him, no reason, absolutely fucking nothing. 

"Ma'am, anything to drink?" A friendly face omnic attendant was leaned towards you with a list of drinks projecting from her hand for you to scroll through, but you looked right into her empty omnic eyes and you couldn't fucking take it anymore.

In the blink of an eye you were in tears, burying your face in your hand and sinking deep into your seat. All you wanted was to close your eyes, to wake up one morning and go back to a morning you were scolding Jesse for smelling like cigarette smoke instead of heavy cigars. Had you done something unforgivable to him? Your nails were digging into your skin, just like Genji he left Overwatch with a hurried goodbye and not even so much as a second thought. You wished you could fling yourself back to when he was trying to say goodbye, when your mind was filled with unwanted roses and petals were practically pouring from your ears, you wished you could go back and shake yourself and look him in the eye, you wished you could have begged him to stay.

Maybe if he stayed you could have saved Gabe. 

Maybe if he stayed you wouldn't have been alone on a farm in a haze.

You missed his stupid fucking spurs and his stupid fucking gaudy belt buckles. You missed him and now you were only sobbing on a plane, hiding your face from uncomfortable onlookers and hoping the sound of the engines was drowning you out. What a stupid impulsive thing it was to send Hanzo after him. You were too trusting, too fucking trusting, why? Just because he shared Genji's last name, or eyes that saw far too much to be that soft? You should have known better, you should have seen it coming. Genji's warning bounced around in your stomach threatening to make you motion sick even as you curled perfectly still in a ball.   

He would hate you. 

He would hate the person you became, someone chasing after something they'll never reach, killing as a first resort, still with a commander he bearly trusted. Not knowing where he was, not knowing what kind of contracts he was taking just to survive being so far off the grid, it was killing you. With a hard swallow and the back of your sleeve to your eyes, you sent through your hacking screen. Avoiding the stares of neighbors in the seats at your side, you tried to keep what you were doing covered, searching all his names and known aliases again and again all over the country. 

It was when you were combing through for information about Jesse that you stumbled on something you never expected to. Reports of a vigilante in Egypt, rising up and attacking known Talon operations- just like you were doing with Jack. With hope in your heart that it was Jesse, you watched short recorded videos of the masked assailant they called 'Shrike'. It was there on that plane, thousands of feet high above the ground that you knew without a single doubt that the woman who was never found, Ana Amari was alive. There was no mistaking the way she handled a sniper rifle, no room for maybes on her the timing of her shots. 

Just to be safe, you sent it to Jack without an explanation. Quick clips of a woman attacking a known Talon warehouse. Within minutes, your phone was lit and he was rambling on from the other end. 

"That _can't_ be her." He said in disbelief, clearly thinking the same thing you were.

"I'm going to run some programs for the live feeds in that area. Let's give it a bit, we'll monitor the agent and see how they do. If it's her, we have to find her." You turned your voice to the side, knowing your seat neighbor probably thought you were absolutely insane after the way you acted. "I'll see if I can get ahold of Sombra so we can get some more information on the attacks, maybe some security footage." 

"This is insane, all three of us?" He was breathless, you could almost picture him pacing around the kitchen wrapping his head around it. For a moment you held your tongue, but there was a question gnawing at you.   

"If she's alive..." Your voice trailed off, you felt stupid for even thinking this. "Do you think there's any chance Gérard could still be alive too?" 

His silence told you everything. Your chewed your cheek and flipped off the hacking screen, that was enough emotional baggage for one day. 

"I don't think so, sweetheart." 

* * *

 While you were biding your time, waiting for confirmation of masked identities, Overwatch was making headlines. 

You were on Hanzo's trail of finding McCree when you heard of a fight in the museum, two kids excitedly talked over each other on an early morning interview about being in the grand exhibit when Winston came crashing through the ceiling. You rolled your eyes and shook your head at their exaggerations of a giant gorilla protecting them sniper shots, crashing hard to a motel bed as they went on and on about how fast Lena was. A seed of uncertainty grew in your stomach as you pulled security details from the attack, they seemed to be fighting around Doomfists's gauntlet- something that made you nervous, they'd have to have a reason to be there specifically at that case. Watching the way Lena twisted around the attackers almost made you sick. Would she still be smiling if she knew it was Gabe behind that mask? Would she giggle the way she does if she recognized Lacroix's wife?

Not long after, no closer to finding Hanzo or McCree, as you and Jack were tangled together in a different motel you watched a live stream with him of a speech in Kings Row. He nervously chewed at his lip, you watched as he anticipated the same fights to breakout he must have seen fighting the first omnic war. Cameras whirred over a supportive crowd gathered to listen in on an omnic's speech, a plea for peace among all kinds. You, and the rest of the world, watched in horror as Tekhartha Mondatta was hurried off the stage only to be hit with one of the most skilled sniper shots you'd ever witnessed. 

"Dammit." Jack pounded his fist to the mattress, blaming himself for it, blaming himself for not being there to lead a team with Overwatch to protect people like Mondatta from the horrors of Talon. 

You shook with rage as a familiar blue streak of light fell from a building, and all too familiar Talon ship carted away a woman with a sniper rifle. 

By the time you'd manage to check every one of Hanzo's last known locations, you received a call from Winston. 

"People are joining us from all over the world, we could really use you." His voice was gentle, in the background Lena was laughing with someone. You could hear his smile. "We need a leader, one that isn't a scientist gorilla."  

"I'm sorry Winston, I..." They did need a leader, but you knew it wasn't you. "I won't come until I find Jesse. I know it's not what you want to hear, and trust me, I know I should be there, but I can't come yet. How are the new recruits?" 

"They're amazing! It's been a lot easier to handle since Genji joined us, he's been able to bring in people I would have never imagined as part of our team. We have a MEKA pilot from Korea, a DJ from Brazil, one of the omnic monks from the same temple as Tekhartha Mondatta. It's incredible to see how everyone is coming together. Tomorrow we're welcoming a scientist from Overwatch's Antarctica ecopoint-" 

"We had an ecopoint in _Antarctica?"_ You looked to Jack who was sitting silently on the other side of the couch. His face scrunched together as if he was trying to remember, only to look back at you with a puzzled expression and lifted shoulders. 

"The old grounds crew is coming back, I'm seeing old and new faces every day- it's really one of the most unbelievable things I've ever seen. People out there really do still care, we really do still need Overwatch and so many are willing to join." 

"Give me a little more time, Winston. I'll get there eventually, and I'll bring along an old face- or two." 

"I hope to see you soon." 

With a heavy sigh you dropped the call. Jack held an open arm for you to drop against his chest, making yourself comfortable on his body. You knew what he wanted to say. He wanted you to give up your search, to let fate have it's run with Jesse so the two of you could make a dramatic entrance back to Overwatch. He landed soft kisses at the top of your forehead, fingers parted your hair and combed it to the side. It was killing him to be away when he knew where he belonged, he called this fight his war, called ending Talon his responsibility and he wanted all the help he could get- your heart hurt knowing you were the one holding him back. 

Life settled for a short time. The weather killed your daffodils, rain turned the farm fields into mud, skies whipped wind against the house in the dead of night that shook you awake with the fear of the unknown. You knew for a while, for maybe a little too long, that the attacker in Egypt had to be Ana. Selfishly, you just wanted a few more days for Jack to yourself before you forced yourself to face the truth. Truth came knocking, kicking down the door before you could even reach the door in the form of a frantic early morning call from Sombra.

"He's taking us to Egypt." She said hushed into the phone. "There's reports of a mercenary attacking one of their compounds, he said he thinks it might be a former Overwatch agent?" 

"Which agent? Do you have a name?" You immediately sat up, fearing Gabe knew far more about what was going on outside of Talon than he let on. 

"Kiri Arntz." She whispered. God, your stomach dropped. He was close, so close to knowing, but you guessed his mind wasn't sharp enough to put two and two together. She'd been missing for far too long too, but you haven't been able to focus on her. "While I'm there I need to get my hands on some files that are only available in their data center, but I need help. This place is guarded, heavily and I need another hacker otherwise I know I'm going to be caught."  

"Send me all the details you can, we'll meet you there."

* * *

Even after all the years apart, Jack still knew exactly who Ana was. As soon as he laid eyes on the compound she was rumored to be monitoring, he led you to the first building he assumed she'd be holed up in. To your surprise, but not his, you stumbled on her as she aimed a rifle at the door and you each threw your hands in the air. 

"I thought you were dead, Ana." He chuckled behind his mask before clicking it off. 

"The world thought you were dead too, Jack Morrison." Her voice was rougher, but her scold was the same. "I saw you in the news reports. Not subtle, are you? I always knew you were too hardheaded to die." 

You sucked in a breath. Seeing her left a bittersweet taste in your mouth, it's not that you weren't happy to see her alive- it's the memory of Gabe curled in a ball on a meeting room floor, sobbing unlike anything you'd ever seen before. She was alive, and she left you to deal with that, she left you to console a man who was coming apart at the seams. 

"It appears you've given up the war but not the fights, Ana. If you still believed in me, in my mission, you would have told me you were alive." 

"How dare you?" She stood, resting on a dirty windowsill with a mean expression. "You don't know what I've been through all of these years. I'd failed everyone, failed my mission, failed you. I have spent so long ashamed and alone, and although I no longer care for Overwatch and what it stood for, I do still care about you. It looks like you could use someone else to watch out for you, is that right?" 

"We do need your help, Ana." You finally voiced, watching as she turned in surprise to you as you clicked off your reflective mask. Her expression softened, tired eyes looking over familiar faces, friendly faces. "It involves attacking that base you've been keeping an eye on."  

"Lead the charge, Commander Morrison." She smiled as she brought her rifle to a rest over her shoulders. 

For a few surreal hours you worked out exactly what she was trying to get from attacking the compound, and sending instructions to Sombra. For a brief moment, a sobering and hallow moment, you almost felt like you were back in Jack's office. If your mind drifted away for even a second you could picture his view from the window, you could get lost in the blue of his jacket. It felt and sounded just like old times, only until you opened your eyes again to be met with the dirty hiding place of a woman on the run and combat fatigues that needed desperately to be washed.      

With a steadying breath and two open lines, you hurried to your spot down to the opposite side just on the other end of the complex where it met dense jungle- the perfect place to hide while you worked from the outside.  

“Sombra, are you through the first set of doors?"

"Just passed 'em boss."

"I’ll be just outside the perimeter monitoring. Shrike will cover the high ground, 76 trying to draw out Reaper as a distraction. Are you positive you can move fast enough?”

“I’ll be in and out before you know it.” She smirked, and you could just hear how her chin landed on her fingers.

With a long sigh your eyes rolled in a disapproving look. She was confident, _too_ confident in her abilities and you could just feel that one day that would be her own downfall. You listened carefully to her making her way deeper and deeper, past Talon agents who asked for identification and whirred into stealth. Trusting Ana and Jack to handle it on their own you stayed on Sombra’s channel, listening to her steady breathing as she ran along the inner perimeter.

“Your friend came to visit.” You said through gritted teeth into your mask. “Decided to crash at our house for a week then disappear without even a goodbye.”   

“Yeah? Well, consider yourself lucky.” She sounded so _annoyed_. “Baptiste came back to Talon just to kill his old team. Left me to find ‘em too. Don’t know where he’s off to now, but we’re not exactly on speaking terms.”    

You held your breath, trying to think back to everything that he said to you on the farm, everything you said to him- nothing seemed as if he’d take that kind of extreme route. Were you really so charmed by his easy going personality that you missed the mind of someone brooding for revenge?

“Shit, I’m sorry to hear that. Are you doing okay-” You gasped as you turned to face the compound. Gunshots already. “Hurry, Sombra. Sounds like they’ve made some friends.”

“I’m on it.”

You stood from your spot, twisting around to look up at the building Ana was set up in to watch over the compound. The echoes of rapid gunfire faded to a nerve wracking silence, you switched to Jack’s channel to listen in leaving Sombra to fend for herself.

“Where is he?” Jack’s voice was strained, followed by the sound of his tactical gear activating. You just _knew_ he'd realized Gabe was somewhere nearby. 

Fuck. This was it. You were clutching your chest, heartbeat pounding at your ribcage. Unable to take a breath you leaned against the dirt, bracing yourself to hear him say he found Gabe hiding in the shadows. After buzzing to life the earpiece went quiet, horribly, horribly quiet.

 _“Right here, Jack.”_ Followed with a deafening shot. You heard the familiar shotgun ring out over the earpiece and echo through the skies. It was a sound that brought you to your feet in an instant, had to running over dirt back to Jack’s location as fast as you could.

Jack groaned in your ear, the same groan you heard after you’d shot him and your heart almost flew from your chest. Blood was pumping as fast as it could through you, fear that he’d hit him at such a close range.

 _“Always rushing in."_ The sound of his voice through the static made your blood run cold. _“I know your every move before you even think it. Always have. Always will.”_  

“I’ve been hit-” Jack gasped out beneath his mask, hoping to keep his voice low enough so only the open line would catch it. “Do not engage.”

 _“I’ve been looking for you since Switzerland. Always knew it’d take more than that to kill you.”_ Gabe’s voice was barely audible as Jack’s heavy breathing filled the line. _“Tell me, did you bring that little hacker with you too?”_

A muted shot, you watched something glimmer in the light down towards where the shots came from. Jack was gasping, breathing struggling less and less. 

“The pain… it’s gone?” His voice was shaking and your entire body was as well, you wished you could see him just to know he was okay.

“Get up, Jack! That adrenaline won’t last for long.” Ana’s voice rang out over the line.

As you were nearing the complex you heard the hits and blows of hand to hand combat. An all too familiar sound that for the first time was sending panic through every nerve of your body. 

“What the fuck is going on in there Ana?!” You were huffing as you tried to peer in the entrance, over an unconscious agent.

“I don’t have a clear shot!” She replied, but not to you. This time she shot out bullets, you could see them hitting into dirt, heard them landing against Reaper’s armor and across the ground. Fighting in the courtyard silenced as you finally made it through the gates, only to see Jack laying alone in a cloud of sandy dust. Ana’s handgun fired away and rang through the earpiece as Gabe's sick laugh echoed with her.

 _“Talon’s been trying to draw out those who have been sabotaging our operations. I never expected that it’d be you.”_ Fuck, you couldn’t focus on Gabe’s voice mocking her above, you ran to Jack who was curled in a ball, the back of his Jacket blown open from a gunshot wound. _“Not to mention Jack, too. Guess us old soldiers are hard to kill. Should have known you’d find a way to stick your nose in my business even after death.”_   

Behind you Ana grunted before you heard wood breaking and turned just in time to see two bodies falling from a third story balcony. She used his body to land safely, forced him to take the brunt of the force rendering him completely immobile for a moment as she struggled to her feet. You watched with paused horror as she ripped his mask from him, only to drop it and stumble back in fear.

“What happened to you?” Her voice broke, her eyes were so wide but you had to force yourself to look away. Jack needed to get out of there, _now_. You circled Jack’s arm over your shoulders, dragging him to his feet as he leaned far too heavy on you and started out towards the gate. He was clumsy on his feet, clutching at the wound that seemed to be spreading with a purple tint across his skin.  

 _“He did this to me, Ana. They left me there to die, to become this monster.”_ He stood over her, shoulders wide and taloned fists curling. _“They left me to suffer. They left you to die out there too. Never forget that.”_  

“Gabriel-” Ana watched as his form fell to smoke, quickly disappearing behind thick underbrush into tropical trees.  

You heard her panting through the earpiece, frantically running from him out the gates only to join you under Jack's other arm and help you drag him as far as possible. He was hurt, bad. Shot with something that you recognized as one of Moira's creations, but you kept your mouth shut too afraid that she would actually be willing to create something capable of harming a super soldier like that. WIth Jack's heavy body you took him as far as you could, into a nearby abandoned building and up the stairs where you could see any potential threats making their way towards you, and you dropped him to the ground to let Ana get a good look. 

She was saying something, something about his injuries but you were too distracted by a form of black just outside the complex. Reaper stood, completely alone, completely unguarded, seemingly lost in processing the arrival of two dead agents. Ana cut herself, ready to scold you for not listening before she realized what you were looking at. Reaper moved slowly further away and you stood with urgency. He was moving at a distance, but not far enough that you couldn’t catch up. In a split moment decision, you turned to them and sucked in a sharp breath, curling your fists against your stomach. Jack’s face twisted in despair, he knew exactly what you wanted and feared every moment of it.

“Don’t face him alone!” He growled at you through the pain. "Please, sweetheart do not go-" 

“I’m sorry Jack.”

Nothing could stop you, this was your chance and you weren’t going let him get away knowing that he remembered who you were. You’d waited too long, cried too many tears, lost too much sleep. You were going to find out for yourself whether or not Gabriel Reyes was still behind the mask. So, you took off running. Running straight towards the commander who woke you up in the middle of the night to make you run in the rain, far away from the one who stayed by your side even when life tried everything it could to pry you apart. If this was it, you were ready to face him and you weren’t going to back down no matter how terrified you were. For a moment, you slowed, you stayed back and watched what he was doing. He seemed to be staring at his hands, cracking his knuckles and pacing. 

You dropped down into the open area, landing with an echoing thud and his hooded figure turned to you with clawed fingers immediately dropping to grip at his guns. There was such a quick change in his demeanor, his shoulders squared, his body curled in on itself. Black smoke dropped and swirled as he rushed towards you only to reemerge in his form yards from you.

Hold your breath.

Don’t be scared.

He’d gained so much control over his smoke, it looked tighter than it used to, much more precise. You stood with your feet solid on the ground, keeping your weight exactly where it was as he rushed towards you with a gun drawn aimed at your face. His finger was about to squeeze the trigger, muscles slowly pulling it towards him to hit you as soon as the barrel made contact with your forehead. Heart pounding and palms sweating against gloves that suddenly felt all too tight, you held your fingers at the clasps of your mask. Waiting until he was almost at you, waiting until you were certain he wouldn’t hesitate to kill. Your hands snapped up, ripping off your broken mirrored mask and throwing it to the ground.

Fresh air and dust hit your skin. Face exposed, you were staring down the business end of his guns with dulled eyes. Moments from death, moments from him blowing your brains out onto the ground behind you and being just another one of his victims, you didn’t even breathe as you expected the click of a trigger. No flinch, no worried expression or tears streaming down your face.

Even now, you still trusted him not to do the very things his mind tormented him with.

Instead, as his form barreled directly in front of you, just before the trigger pressed all the way down- he burst into smoke again. Wind rushed around your body surrounding you in solid black as you gasped with relief. Unable to see a thing, the familiar tingling of strings like hairs grazed across your cheeks. It was a sad comfort, a feeling you wish you'd never felt again, but one that almost brought you to happy tears. In sunless smoke there was a sense of fingers touching your face with a haunting familiarity, they traced along your jaw, drawing your head to follow the black smoke until it fell behind you and you were looking over your shoulder.

Black faded to bright sunlight, dust kicked up around you but you stayed deathly still. Behind you, his cloak fluttered against the wind as he materialized heavy against the dirt. There was a horrible silence, a moment where neither of you could fully turn to face the other, where neither of you would take a breath. Not even your racing heartbeat distracted you.

“If you're going to kill me at least have the courtesy of doing it with your own two hands.” You said low, over your shoulder to him.

His response was a growl, then to spin around faster than you could have anticipated to hit your lower back with the butt of his gun sending you down to the dirt on your knees. You skidded to a stop and stayed kneeling on the ground, waiting for him with fingers digging into earth. His walk still sounded the same, heavy with metal clicking together, the only extra now was the sound of a cloak ripping in the wind. Carefully, you leaned back onto your legs, pushing yourself up so you were sitting on your knees able to watch his legs make their way in front of you. He rounded you slowly, standing directly in front and examining how little of a reaction you had to him.

With the tip of a gun he lifted your chin, your eyes stared into the empty black sockets of his mask.    

“Come on Gabriel, let’s make this personal. If you’re going to kill me, strangle me. _It didn't quite take the first time.”_

He threw his weapons to the side with an angry grunt, landing with loud thuds and small clouds of dust. Then to your surprise, he moved to his gloves. Carefully picking off the fingers and bladed edges, he was medical almost as he removed them until you could see his sickly skin, dark veins like honeycombs patterned just beneath. He still looked so strong but there was something so disgustingly off about it. Nearby insects were buzzing low as he kneeled down to one knee and studied how you refused to be scared by his dramatic tactics. Gauging your reaction he reached out, taking his time to wrap each familiar finger around your stretched throat. His hand was cold, grip still as strong as you remember it, but he wasn’t putting pressure. On the other side of that stupid white mask he was breathing hard, the calm breaths of someone who had done this far too many times now.

You wished he would just get on with it, that he wouldn't torture you with waiting, but he almost seemed unsure of it himself. Could he actually bring himself to do it, or was Gabriel Reyes really completely dead?

Then his thumb rubbed against your skin. You weren't sure if he was trying to comfort himself, or you, but it made your heart jump and you were flooded with the memories of the night he tried this the first time, of how much he didn't want to be doing what he did. He was still in there, somewhere no matter how deep inside, Gabe was still in there- you could feel him. You carefully pulled off your own glove, allowing him to see exactly what you were doing before gingerly meeting your hand to his over your throat.  

“Come with me.” His deep voice rumbled out at you, barely audible.

“To where, Talon? I’m not joining that shit show.”

A disgruntled growl left him followed with a small squeeze to your throat, then back to circling his thumb against your skin. His chest expanded with deep breaths. All you could picture was how desperately hard it was for him to control himself, to control the thoughts that must have been ripping through his mind. The trust was still there. He was still fucking there.  

“I could protect you.” He spoke slower, deeper than he used to and you couldn't quite tell if it was because of the mask or if his voice was actually altered.

“Yeah? How’s that going for Amélie?” You were snarling, but your tone dropped as his fingers squeezed. Nails dug into skin before loosening and coming to a still. “That's a pretty bold claim when you failed to protect me from even yourself.”

The air shifted as he did. You could feel a deep aching urge that was rumbling in him, so you spoke quietly, soft as a whisper trying to bring him back. You wanted Gabriel Reyes back.

“Are you still having those nightmares?”  

“They never stopped.” He breathed out. “They only get worse.”  

You slowly moved your fingers between his, holding him in place over your throat. Your own pulse beat hard but steady against your skin, your fingertips could feel it and you were sure he could feel it too.

“I still can’t do it.” His voice broke as fingers moved to hook breath the chain hanging from your neck. With a sharp breath leaving you and your hand dropped to your side, you waited as he pulled the dog tags out of your shirt and into his palm. His fingertips ran over the tag with his name. “I told you to bury these.”

“Not until you’re dead.” He might as well have been choking you with how pathetic your voice sounded. 

His fingers moved to Jack’s tag, running over the raised bumps where his name was before he lifted his eyes to meet yours again.

“Still trying to save the world with that boy scout?”

“We just want you to come home, Gabe.” You whispered, allowing your eyes to finally water at the edges. “Please. I know you’ve done horrible things. Things you should never be forgiven for, but you can have a _normal life_ if you just give all this up and come home to Indiana with me.”

“Don’t call me that. Gabriel Reyes is dead.”He stared at you, blank mask seeming to see holes right through you. "And Indiana will never be my home." 

Your nostrils flared, anger hitting you before you realized you needed to keep it together otherwise you'd be seeing the world in black and white again. 

“Take off that stupid fucking mask.” You said to him through tight lips as a tear rolled down your cheek. “You’re not dead, asshole. You’ve done terrible things to innocent people, maybe you’re trying to tell yourself that just to feel better, but you’re not fucking dead and I want my fucking family back! I grieved for you. I grieved for Jack. I'll kill you myself before I ever have to deal with that shit again.”

Your hands curled around his, balling his fingers into a fist around the dog tags. He stilled, a globally wanted criminal running a terrorist organization, personally responsible for hundreds if not thousands of deaths, he stood completely still to stare at your face as you slowly broke down just because you wanted to see his dumb face again.

“Ana was afraid of me-”

“Did you forget I saw you after the explosion?” You snapped, fingers gripping over his harder. “Don't be a coward. I could see down to your damn skull, Gabriel. You were soaked in blood. My last fucking image of you is one with your head sliced open looking like a goddamn zombie. Take. It. Off.”

His fingers curled against your palm before you released him. With a deep breath, you watched as he brought hands to the edges of his hood and lowered it to his shoulders then returning to the mask to carefully lift.  

Now years after the explosion and years after the blood pouring from his face, he was left with deep scars that made him all the more frightening. More than you could have ever imagined him to be beneath the gore from years ago. The biggest scar was from when he’d ripped his face open, it spidered high on his cheek and cut down through his facial hair, over his lips, the scar almost concave where it ran along his skin. Going up it ran along next to his eye, curving over his head into his now long gray hair leaving a small section where the hair would no longer grow. His old scars were still there embedded deep on his skin which, although still dark, was clearly ashen and almost corpse-like the more you looked at it.

Loose gray, almost white, curls fell down over his shoulders, framing his face and catching the breeze. You almost laughed at the realization that he hadn’t cut his hair in so long- probably since the explosion. The old Gabriel Reyes you knew would have never let it get so unkempt. It looked like he’d kept up on trimming his facial hair though, a surprise considering the state of his scarred face. Where it could grow around the scars, a salt and pepper goatee framed his lips.

Through all this, you were caught up with his eyes. His eyes were exactly how they had been the last time you saw them when he was pouring blood from the top of his head. Black replaced the whites, burning bright red in the centers instead of irises. Even though his eyes were horrifying and made your stomach churn, they were  _familiar_ and there was a profound sadness apparent through them.

Those empty eyes searched yours for anything, any sign of forgiveness, any sign or recognition, or love. You forced yourself to stare back blankly, waiting for your own eyes to dry.

He looked ashamed, red irises dropping away from your gaze.

“Was it worth it, Gabe? Are you taking them down like you said you would or have you lost yourself?” Your voice shook, looking at him you knew you should have been scared but you couldn’t help but only feel pity. Even if he was still doing what he set out to do, to take down Talon, he'd passed a line he should have never crossed and he knew that. 

“I’m doing what I have to.” He deadpanned, face unchanging in its emotionless state. “Finishing what we started.”  

“That’s not what it looks like to me.” Your bottom lip was wavering, but you were holding it together. "Look at yourself. Is this really what Gérard would have wanted? Is this what we stood for and what all those Blackwatch agents died for? You've killed children, Gabriel. You've wiped entire villages off the map. Can you not see that things you're doing for Talon in the name of revenge are only creating terrible things for innocent people? Look me in the goddamn eyes and tell me you're really doing have you _have_ to do."

He wouldn't lift his eyes. You grabbed his shoulders, shaking him.  

"You can't even admit how fucked up the things are that you've been doing, can you?" You stepped closer to him, brinking on the point of hysterics. “Fuck. Please, Gabe.” You pleaded under your breath, falling forward to a tight hug around his shoulders. Your cheek fell against his, scarred skin pressing against you as you buried your face against him. “Give me a reason not to give up on you, _please_. I can’t give up.”

To your surprise, arms fell to your waist. Heavy armor held you close, hugged you to a point where he lifted you to your tippy toes. Warm short breaths hit your cheek as his face nuzzled to the side of your cheek, his goatee and lips just grazing your skin and for a second you almost thought he left a small kiss to your jaw. Dry sobs caught in your throat- he’s in there, you have him. You _can_ bring him home.

A hand trailed up your back, parting the back of your hair at the base of your neck before you felt a deep pinch that sent a shock through your body.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice broke. “I still have so much to do. I can’t let you distract me.”

Numb, numb, numb, your whole body went completely numb.

Wide-eyed horror, you watched as your hand you couldn't feel moved from his shoulders to his deeply scarred cheek, fingertips ran lightly along where it dropped down into thick gray peppered facial hair before it fell loose to your side. Unable to feel your legs, you crumpled to the ground down next to an empty vial that looked suspiciously like the one Moira once gave you to sedate a super soldier if he went too far. He bent over you, fastening your broken reflective mask back on over your face before you watched in forced silence, through watering eyes, the form of Gabriel Reyes fade away into the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some dialogue is from the Overwatch comic "Old Soldiers", tweaked it a bit to make it fit this story <3
> 
> ** Edit: hey ya'll im sobbing :') [Ravenmore on twitter has drawn my favorite scene from this chapter and I'm a fucking m e s s ](https://twitter.com/ravenemore/status/1160431233169412096)  
> 


	48. The Cowboy And The Hacker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long talk with an old friend.

Ana found you there, face to the dirt, unable to move, tear stained cheeks. She brought you back to a run down hideaway, Jack laid writhing in pain on a bed of well used blankets. She tried to help how she could, tried to ease his pain as you glued your eyes through an open arch overlooking a vast empty sky of dark clouds blocking stars. Your whole body felt sore, every muscle begging you to just go back to sleep, but there was no sleeping when you knew there was even the smallest chance you could have saved the man who once begged you not to become a monster.  

"If we get Gabe, we can get Amélie back too." You were having a whispered argument with Ana as Jack tried to sleep. 

"They are both lost causes. Nothing left of either of them that would be salvageable, trust me, I lost an eye to the woman. I saw who she'd become." 

"Gabe is still in there, he would have killed me if he wasn't. Why the hell are you giving up on him so easy?"

"Look at what he's become-"

"Look at what _you've_ become, Ana. A vigilante in a mask? Who are you to judge Gabe or Amélie for adapting to their situations when you seemed to have followed right in their footsteps? Do you even care about the people you left behind? The lives you destroyed by disappearing? What about your daughter? What about Reinhardt who spent months mourning you unable to even fucking laugh because he was so heartbroken? What about Jesse, who spent so long looking for you that he quit Overwatch because Jack was trying to pull him back into doing _his job?"_ There was an anger unleashing in you that you hadn't expected, pent up thoughts about how selfish it was that she was alive this whole time. 

"Jesse didn't leave Overwatch to look for me." Her stern whisper tightened as she crossed her arms. "He found me about two weeks after I was shot, I begged him not to tell anyone. He left Overwatch to take care of me, to watch my back." 

You stared at her in stomach dropping silence. Her twisted features softened as she watched your expression change from anger to confused guilt. 

"He... he found you- he didn't even tell me?" Your last interaction with him, a begging goodbye as he dried blood from his face after a fist fight with Gabe, why wouldn't he tell you? Your mind was racing, maybe you hadn't asked the right questions. Maybe you should have forced him to really tell you what was going on, all you remember was how pissed off he was. "He- has he been with you this whole time?" 

"For a while. He carried weight on his shoulders after the explosion, thought he should have been there to help. I told him not to, but I know he tried to call you a few times. I think after a while I was too much for him to be around, I began to only remind him of the life he turned his back on and I woke one morning, maybe a year or so after the explosion, and he'd left in the night." 

"Typical." You scoffed, if Jesse didn't find a situation suitable anymore he would up and leave. "Do you know where he went?"

"I only know he went back to the United States to pick up mercenary work. I haven't heard from him since he left."

"Dammit." You rubbed your hands against your face, roughly rolling over raw rubbed cheeks. "I need to find him, did he tell you anything else? Names of anyone he would go to, cities, where he gets his ammo, _anything?"_

"All I remember is him talking about a train he used to get free rides on because he'd done Deadlock work for the conductor." She unfolded a tiny piece of paper from her pocket and scribbled down the name before leaning far forward to hand it to you. "I worry about him, too. Jack wants me to come with him to rejoin Overwatch, if you can get Jesse I promise I will be on that base with you."

It was a small note, one that felt insignificant, but after more than six years and sending an assassin after him to bring Jesse home, this was more than you'd had to go on in years. The conversation fizzled as Jack groaned from the poisoned gunshot wound, Ana sprung to her feet to check on him and you returned to staring out of the small arch. Somewhere under this same sky Jesse McCree was on the run, and you could feel it, you were absolutely deteremined- you were going to find him. 

* * *

Calls to Moira went unanswered. Jack had to recover on his own laying in bed at the farmhouse, you kissed his forehead and promised to be back soon as you left to board a train under the guize of being a business class passenger looking for a more scenic way to travel. At every stop, you walked from cabin to cabin, looking in at the people putting away luggage and enjoying drinks to the start of a fun journey. You lost track of how many times you'd wandered that train looking for any signs of Jesse, any signs of Deadlock or seedy characters who were hiding a career as low-level gangsters. 

Each time you'd return home empty handed, no closer to finding him. No trails, no clues, no hits on facial recognition. Jack tried to tell you that leaving every couple of days to take a train for no reason was a waste of time. He was right, you were spending pointless hours doing absolutely nothing, going absolutely nowhere, only to come home upset that you were still missing your cowboy. Weeks of him healing, weeks of you stalking a train to the point where the staff knew you by name, weeks went by until you'd become so numb to walking through the narrow halls that you almost passed right by him.     

You almost didn’t believe your own eyes. Sleeping with the door to his tiny cabin room cracked open, arms crossed at his chest and legs spread long out in front of him, Jesse McCree was peacefully napping as if he wasn't a man on the run. You looked around you in a moment of sheer blinding red anger that _of course_ this would be how you found him. The worst part was, you recognized the red shawl wrapped around his shoulders. You'd seen it and the dirty cowboy hat before, seen flashes of the sleeping form of this man on other train rides but it hadn't quite clicked. What did it was an oversized shining gold belt labeled 'BAMF', a belt buckle so gaudy that it could only belong to Jesse McCree.  

With a sour face and an unashamed annoyed tone, you ripped the cold cigar from between his lips, tossing it to the floor as you leaned in uncomfortably close to his sleeping face and shoved the end of your finger against his chest.

“Are you fucking _kidding_ me?” You shouted practically against his skin as he startled awake.

His eyes flew open and a deep gasp left his chest as he reached for the gun holstered at his side hidden beneath a dirty red shawl. Deep veins of bloodshot eyes surrounded blown out pupils, his breath stunk as he scrambled in his seat to get away from you to the other side of the small cabin, only to really process the sight before him as he got a full look at you.

Words sputtered out of him as he pushed his hat off and combed an obviously omnic hand through greasy hair. You started at the robotic limb in horror, stomach churning with guilt that something terrible happened to him and you were too late to stop it. You wanted to be mad, you wanted to be so angry that you could just shove him out of the window and send him flying into wilderness along the train tracks but your face was twisting and pinching and tears were forming in your eyes as you fell towards him intending at first to hit him, instead landing with your face to his chest and wrapping arms at his ribs in a tight hold.

“Is it really you, Jesse?” You choked out muffled by his chest.

“H-hey, darlin'.” As soon as he spoke his body seemed to melt against yours, bringing you into a hug that warmed your heart in a way that had been missing for well over six years. As your hug grew tighter, you started swaying with him, an unintentional effect of feeling a deep need to keep the hug going as long as possible. Neither of you could part from each other, neither wanting to separate from a hug that was pent up with over half a decades worth of searching. Your fingers were digging into the fabric at the back of his shirt, balling it up refusing to let him go. 

First with hesitation then with the gentleness of familiarity, Jesse’s hand curled to the back of your head and fingers slipped into your hair, holding you against him as his shaking breath steadied. As your head pressed against him you could hear his heartbeat, racing from being frightened awake. 

“Where the _fuck_ have you been?” You finally dry sobbed against a button up that needed to be washed. “Years, Jesse. I’ve been looking for you for _years_.”

“I guess it really has been a while, hasn't it darlin’?” There was a small laugh bubbling up from his chest. You pulled away from him, just enough to look into his eyes. Shit, had he always looked this old? The deep bags under his eyes told you he’d been on the run for far too long. The roots of his hair looked like they were slowly graying. This wasn’t the boy who wouldn’t pass out after a few drinks anymore. Finally able to really take him in you inhaled the disgusting stench of cigar smoke but your heart was pulling nostalgia strings for the smell you didn’t think you’d ever miss. 

“Ugh. You stink.” You pushed him away, a small smile lingering on your lips. 

He chuckled and pulled your hands with him until you sat side by side in the little booth. The seat creaked with old springs as you brought your knees to your chest and sat sideways, he sighed into his seat stretching out his legs and bumping spurs against torn up carpet. 

“Glad to see you haven’t changed.” He laughed as you brought your nails to your teeth in nervousness. Even after all these years, you hadn’t thought about what exactly you wanted to say to him. "For a while there I thought maybe you'd died in the explosion since no one could get ahold of you. Was real worried 'bout you. How have you been holding up?"   

“Honestly, Jesse?" Your voice was shaking. "Pretty terrible. I really needed my best friend and there was no way for me to get ahold of you, to find you. I was a fucking wreck, everyone I knew was dead, I was completely alone-" 

"You refused to answer the damn phone!" 

"Then you just fell off the fucking map! And for what, so you could pretend everything was okay while you were running around with Ana?!" 

"You-" He gasped, eyes darting around in shock. "You know she's alive?" 

"You don't even know the half of it." You shook your head and tried to hide the ugly grimace on your lips. "I met your old Deadlock partner while I was trying to track you down, by the way. Her and that big omnic? They were working with Talon." 

"I found that out a little too late." He sunk into his seat, fingers nervously fidgeting together in his lap. "Last time I took a contact from Ashe there was this nasty lookin' girl there with these holographic lookin' legs and they were arguin' up somethin' fierce. Turns out Deadlock thought they were doin' work for Talon for a while but were really helpin' that psycho put together a little coup to take it over. To be honest, it didn't look like that girl was gonna make it through the day, her veins were practically poppin' out of her skin and her eyes had all these broken blood vessels in 'em, all her hair had fallen out, she was a damn mess." 

You stayed quiet, chewing on your nails. It had to be Arntz, but you wished it wasn't. Your best guess was that she'd managed to inject herself with the defective super soldier serums, even Moria was afraid of the side effects they would cause. You didn't want to believe it, but she was probably pushing herself to the edge of her limits on her quest to get revenge, even if that meant destroying her own body in the process. Jesse noticed how quickly you went quiet, his omnic hand fell over your fingers and held as lightly as he could. With a suppressed gasp you kept in your wild questions about what the hell could have happened to him that would make him lose his arm.

"Ana said she's worried about you." 

"She was treatin' me like a damn child. Always orderin' me around like she was still a captain, she should worry about her damn self." He hunched over to pick his cigar from the floor, inspecting it with disgust on his face. He turned back to you, brows down "I'm not stupid, you know. I've been watchin' the news. Seems like I'm not the only one helpin' out the dead. That idiot in the jacket runnin' around attackin' Overwatch bases with the big 76 on him is your damn commander, isn't it?" 

"He is." You stated plain and simple, no fanfare, no explosion of emotions. "And there's more you need to hear." 

He nodded his head and just listened.

Jesse closed his eyes, held his hat hard against his heart, jowls clenching as you told him exactly what happened, your truth from the moment you returned back to the base on a fateful night where you begged a redheaded doctor to make you not feel anything anymore. You watched the lump at his throat bob with swallowed pain as you calmly told him exactly what it was Gabe had done to you, about why you were able to hold Jesse's weight as you hung from a ceiling blown to bits. You watched as he chewed the inside of his cheeks in thought when you described all the times you’d spent in secrecy on Gabe’s plane, his eyes wouldn’t meet yours as you struggled to recall the time Gabe had asked you to kill him and you couldn’t. He listened, but there was something bubbling up the surface that was ready to explode just as you were about to drop your final bomb- that Gabe was still alive and hiding behind a mask. 

“What the hell was he so afraid of that he asked you to fuckin’ _kill him_?” 

“He was sick... in a way. His body was degenerating from the shit they put in him during the SEP program. I helped him learn to control it, I trained with him to no longer be afraid of it, instead to embrace it. I… fuck Jesse I made him become the monster he was always afraid of being.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” He deadpanned at you, a strain in his voice told you he already suspected something terrible.

“I helped him become Reaper.”

"Reaper." Jesse repeated back at you in disbelief. "Talon's Reaper? The black cloak? The guns? The- oh my god. Holy shit. _Holy shit_ , that's Reyes." He stared at you with burning eyes, wide with betrayal as he rolled his lips between his teeth. Flashes of rage peaked with every blink, his gaze searched the air of the cabin in anger. Any word he tried to speak he stopped, abruptly sucking in and biting back every hurt thing he wanted to say. You watched as the pieces came together. If Gabe is Reaper it means he’s alive, if Gabe is Reaper it means he’s a monster, if Gabe is Reaper it means the man who tried to kill you with his own hands at your throat was still out there. 

“I need your help to get him back, Jesse.”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him if I find him, that's what I'm gonna do!” He spat out, pushing himself to his feet before pacing around the floor. “You both lied to me, let me think I was fuckin’ crazy, let Genji think he was outta his damn mind for even thinkin’ Gabe would ever put his hands on you! Genji knew it, he fuckin’ knew it and I shoulda listened to him sooner. I shoulda punched Gabe harder when he tried to beat the shit outta me for leavin’ Blackwatch. And you helped him be like that, you keep this a secret from everybody the whole fuckin' time! Talon is takin' over the world and you gave them their greatest weapon! ”

“When he started slipping I was too blinded to see it!” You curled in on yourself, palms pressing to the front of your face. “I’m so sorry Jesse. I let you down. I let Gabe down. Fuck, I could have stopped this- I saw him in Egypt, he's still in there. He's broken but I know the Reyes we used to look up to is still somewhere behind this crazy mass murdering mask that he's putting a front of. He's still trying to take them down, he wants-”        

"I don't give a shit what he wants! The way he's done it is all wrong. People don't just murder everyone they see and run a terrorist organization for shits and giggles darlin'. He's in it, if he really wanted to do something effective he'd take all those assholes out instead of killin' innocents! You're still just as delusional if you really think there's anything in him that has sympathy or feels anything human. The Reyes we knew would never do shit that Reaper has." 

"I think if you're with me, if he just sees you, sees us together, maybe we could make him really understand that he's doing more harm than good. If I have you with me we could face him together and I know he'll listen to us, please Jesse. All I'm asking for is help with this one thing, then you can go back to whatever it is you think you're doing here. I need your help." You stared into his eyes, voice cracking. "I just want my family back." 

"I'm not takin' orders from that commander of yours. If I help you, we're doin' it my way." He was quiet, always too weak for your watering eyes. "And I'm not comin' back to contract work. If we do this, you gotta help me find somethin' a little more... stable."

"How does going back to Overwatch sound?" You smiled at him as he fell back into his seat, forcing himself to turn away from you and stare out a window with fast passing landscapes. In the quiet you could hear his scratching at the scruff on his chin and biting at the chapped section on the side of his lip. "Winston recalled a bunch of us. Ana wants you to join, if you'd be willing. I'm sure we could work something out to make sure you're not taking too many orders." 

He cracked a little smile as you gently pushed your shoulder against his, bumping him just enough that he moved to open his arm to you. Even though he stank to high hell, you leaned against him almost on the verge of tears as your body rested against his in a familiarity that felt like being back home. His chest shuttered with a deep sigh as a mechanical arm hugged you against him, resting carefully over your collarbone and tapping fingers against your shoulder.

"I do miss everyone." He drawled, leaning his nose against the top of your head. "As much as I hate to admit it, life's no fun all alone. I'll think about it." 

Unsure who fell asleep first, you or him, you knew you woke before he did in a dimly lit cabin and you stared at the way his new arm bounced the light around. You shifted against him, settling with fingers that traced the plates around his strange metal arm. He stilled as you touched it, allowing you to look over it completely, it was fairly simple for what it was. Easily hackable. You were so, so curious.  

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked with a quiet voice. 

“That’s a long story.”

“It’s a long train ride.”

“Well,” He pushed out a long hissing breath, moving his torn up shawl to cover as much of you as he could as a makeshift blanket. “I was mindin’ my own business after a long day. Had just finished this contract for some loser that's a rival of Deadlocks, was finally takin’ the night off and havin’ a drink at this shitty little bar up the street from a motel I was hidin’ out in. I’m there maybe fifteen minutes, tops, and this good lookin’ guy comes up to me, offers to buy me a drink, tells me I’m charming and he likes my beard, he’s layin’ it on real thick you know?”

“Mmhmm.” Your stomach sank, something told you he was about to mention a dragon tattoo and a deadly brother.

“So I was actually havin’ a good time. It’d been a while since I’d had any _company_ , if you know what I mean, and I let myself get caught up in the way he was smilin’ at me. Didn’t even notice he’d slipped somethin’ into my drink.”

“Fuck.” You said under your breath, shaking your head. Of all the ways to catch Jesse McCree, that was not how you intended.

“Anyways, he didn’t do anythin’ you know, _weird_ to me, but I woke up all groggy in this abandoned mine outside of town. Real creepy little place, kinda place people woulda wrote ghost stories about. He had me all tied up to this rotting support beam and he was just sittin’ there meditating or somethin’ cause he was all quiet with his eyes closed, but he had side of his shirt halfway off and I recognized him right away. Genji once told me _all about_ his brother, about his dragon tattoo and how he was supposed’ta get ones just like his, so I knew right away it was Hanzo Shimada.”

“Did he tell you why he drugged you?”

“See, at first I thought maybe he found out ‘bout his brother still bein' alive and was finishin’ off anyone who knew what he’d done but then he said someone had hired him to hunt me down. Luckily I didn’t say nothin’ about Genji. He refused to tell me who hired him, my guess is it was Ashe throwin' a fuckin' fit since I ran away with all her contacts. Even though he'd taken me hostage he was treatin' me real kind, bein' real careful with how he tied me, gave me water and all the stuff people never do if they're tryin' to kill ya. Anyways, I guess he was just waitin' on a response from his boss to do whatever it was he was gonna do to me, he kept checkin' his phone over and over and over again." 

You were biting hard at your cuticles. You never once received anything from Hanzo saying he had Jesse, or that he was even close to it.   

"I guess his signal was bad though, we were in a mine after all. He kept leaving to try and get a signal and when he was gone through the ropes at my wrists I could feel a weak spot in the wood. So I knew I had a way out, but see, I knew if I broke that support I’d be takin’ down the ceiling with me. After waitin' around a couple hours I decided, if this was how I was gonna go, at least I was gonna take that asshole out along with me.”

“ _Jesus Christ_ , Jesse. Don’t tell me collapsed a mine just to get away from him.” You lifted your head to look up at his very serious expression. 

“That’s exactly it. As soon as he walked by me again, I yanked at it as hard as I could and all these rocks came tumbling down before he even knew what was happenin’. He started chasin’ me outta there right as all the ceiling cracked and it started caving in. The noise it made, man it was loud. Scared the shit outta me, but I kept runnin'. I was too fast for him though, ain’t no one catches Jesse McCree.”

“You made it out?”

“I made it out.” He flexed his metal hand and you stared at it in confusion. “Now, the problem, Hanzo almost made it out. I heard him hollerin’ and cursin’ up a storm, even recognized some of them words Genji taught us in Japaneese. I turned around to look at him and he was on the ground, the back of his legs pinned under the rubble but he was aiming right at me. I- I tried to roll outta the way, but he shot so many arrows so quick I didn’t really process what was goin’ on. When I looked down my arm was just… riddled with 'em, his whole fuckin’ quiver it looked like and they were stickin' out all over the place. There was so much blood and I couldn’t feel my hand anymore, I thought breakin' my leg that one time you threw me would be the worst pain I'd ever feel, but damn Hanzo gave you a run for your money. I just stared at it for a bit and knew there was probably no savin’ it. Fuckin' asshole.”     

“Jesse?” You paused but he stayed silent, curling his metal fingers into a fist over and over again. “Did you kill him?”

“I didn’t kill him.” He sounded pretty upset about it though. “But I also didn’t help him. I left him there to suffer, just like he did to Genji. I don’t give a shit if he died there.”

“How long ago was this?” You were trying to do the math in your head, hoping beyond everything that Jesse hadn’t taken away Genji’s brother just as he was learning to forgive.

“Couple years ago now?”

You breathed a deep sigh of relief and pushed sweat from your forehead. Jesse noticed how you dropped against him and impatiently tapped your shoulder with impatience.

“Weird reaction for someone who should be just as angry as I am with him, the man almost killed me.”

“Ashe didn't hire him. I sent him after you, Jesse.” You shifted away to lean heavy on your knees, bracing yourself almost as if you were about to be motion sick. “I don’t know, at the time it seemed like a good idea but… fuck, I told him not to hurt you, I told him not to kill you. I just wanted to see you again. I just thought he would find you, not do crazy shit like put you in a mine-”

“ _You_ sent Hanzo Shimada after me?!” He looked down to his arm, horrified. “Did you know who he was?”

He was pissed. Beyond pissed. You couldn't breathe, this felt like you were stumbling into the unknown as your head spun in your seat. God you were dizzy. Guilt came crashing down on you faster than the train darting through the deserts. 

“I did.”

“You knew what he did to Genji and you trusted him to get me?”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Yes, I did.”

“Did Genji _know_?”  

“No." It felt like no matter how hard you sucked in air, your lungs weren't filling. "Well, he does now, I told him. He actually saw his brother at their home a few months ago, Hanzo lived and Genji is trying to forgive him for what he did.”

“The hell he is!” Jesse stood again, accidentally hitting his head on the low luggage rack and cursing to himself as he paced in a small circle. “So, what, you’re all buddy-buddy with both Shimada brothers now? How long before he gives you an omnic body part, hmm? What are you going to do when he tries to kill you too?!”

“He’s changed, Jesse! He regrets what he’s done and I’m sure he was just acting out of anger since you _collapsed a fucking mine_ on him!”

“Why do you fucking forgive everyone for the shit they do?! Look!” He grabbed your arm, pushing your sleeves up and bringing your old scars to the front of your face. “You forgave Morrison for this shit! You forgave Reyes for fuckin’ _stranglin’_ you! You forgave that damn mad scientist for fuckin’ around with your blood and turnin' you into some damn hybrid super soldier! You’re really gonna forgive the man who killed our Genji, who took my fuckin’ arm from me?! Where does this fuckin’ end, where do you draw your line?! What-”

A knock, quick knocks followed by a friendly omnic in a bright red uniform, almost as bright as the red on Jesse's cheeks.

“Excuse me, sir? We need to ask you to keep your voice down, you’re frightening the other passengers.” It's voice was chipper. Jesse stared wide eyed at the omnic then back at you as you held back bitter sobs. He released your wrist from a hard grip, letting your arm drop heavy to the side. "Is... everything alright in here?" 

“S-sorry. Of course. We're fine.” His voice was small as he waited in a long silence after the omnic closed the cabin door. “I-”

“Fuck you.” You hissed out as you shoved his shoulders, not hard enough to push him over, but enough to make him catch his footing. “I haven't forgiven Hanzo for what he did, but Genji is trying to and that’s all that matters to me so I’m willing to give him a chance. He’ll probably never talk to me again though after what he did to you, I’m sure he thinks if I find him I’ll rip him to pieces.”

“I just-” He stopped himself, clearing his throat of a caught dry sob. “I worry ‘bout you, you’re so strong but your heart is just- it’s soft. The thought of any of them hurtin’ you, it- it kills me.”

“I know.” You whispered, leaning forward to hug him loosely. “Jesse, all this time I’ve only wanted one thing and that’s to have my family back. I think now I can have that again if you would be willing to help me. I'm sorry about your arm. I really am.”

“Well-" He was being stubborn, refusing to hug you back. "I never much liked that tattoo anyways." 

“Not funny.” You sighed as his arms lifted around you finally. “I want your help to bring Gabe back from this world he’s lost in with Talon, even if you can't forgive him. Afterward, we can all go back to Overwatch and do things right this time. Genji’s already there and I know he misses you a lot too.”

“I really don’t know if I can go back to that.”

“You don’t have to make a decision now. I know I just gave you a lot to think about, I just don’t want you to disappear on me again." Your heart was practically jumping through your throat. How was it possible to look both exactly the same, yet so different at the same time? Jesse had a certain way of making your heart hurt and long to be sleeping in a cot that was far too small in an assigned room for a team you were never really part of. "If you're not sure about it yet and want a job that doesn't involve working for the people you hate, Winston sent me intel that there’s a train going through Deadlock territory next week, he wants to make sure makes it through with no incident. It doesn't have to be an official job.”

“Somethin’ important on that train?”

“He said it’s an omnic named Echo, he’s hoping once she’s in a safe destination she can be powered on and brought back to Overwatch. I think she has some connection to his AI.”

“Well I’ll be damned, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen that hunk of junk.” Jesse laughed to himself and you rolled your eyes. “I’d be happy to escort her.”

“Once you’re done with that, if you're up for it, meet me in Verona. It’s about time we bring Gabe home.”

His eyes were turned to look out the window, the night was breaking to morning and the sun was peeking just behind a distant tree line. You watched as orange beams of sunlines streamed into the cabin, filling the air with soft light and made him look all too familiar. Even beneath years of wear and tear, he was still the Blackwatch boy with the scruffy beard and a weird knock. Even if you hadn't seen him for years, he was definitely still Jesse McCree.  

"Well, would you look at that." He turned his face from the window, looking down to you with a smile. "'Mornin' sunshine." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boy!! He's back!! There he is!! ヽ(͡◕ ͜ʖ ͡◕)ﾉ


	49. Jack Morrison Is Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One last chance to get Gabe, otherwise it's back to Overwatch.

Jack was completely restless. When you came back home, he had dozens of tabs and programs open monitoring the movements and rumors of Overwatch restarting. He'd pulled up files and information on every agent whose name he could remember. Sprawled out in your computer chair, eyes closed as he rested his chin in his palm on the edge of the desk, he'd clearly been there for a while. While you were chasing down a cowboy, he'd been looking for any way he could to involve himself with Overwatch. Not wanting to disturb him, you softly draped an old quilt at his shoulders to keep him warm as he napped at your computer and you took your bag to the bedroom to unpack for a short visit home before leaving for Verona. In just a few days, you would be off to an abandoned Overwatch safehouse, the closest one to Talon headquarters that hadn't been seized back by any governments yet. 

It was daunting to think just how much was riding on your gut feelings. You gave yourself three weeks, three weeks to monitor Talon activity, determine where Gabe was, and intervene. You halfheartedly believed Jesse would show up to help you, even though he wanted to get Gabe, he parted from you with a hesitant goodbye and you almost tried to grab at him again for a hug after the way he looked at you. The thought of losing him for another six years filled you with a numbing buzz of worry. You chewed at the side of your lip and sorted through dirty clothes from your trip on the train, only to have your ears perk up at the sound of muffled shuffling at the doorway, you looked to him over your shoulder. 

Jack stood with sleep heavy eyes and the quilt wrapped around him, white hair messy from a hand running through it. A little smile lifted as he saw you through tired lids. 

"Hey, handsome." You laughed as you threw a shirt into the laundry pile. He blinked at you as strong arms wrapped loosely at your waist. 

"Glad you made it home safe." His low voice croaked as lips landed at the side of your neck. His scruff scratched at your skin but you hummed and ignored your travel bag to hug at his arms around you instead. His body pressed closer to yours, quilt hanging at his shoulders falling to surround you too as he kissed at your neck lazy and soft. "Forget putting away your stuff, just come to bed. I'll finish it for you in the morning." 

"Were you up late doing research?" You turned in his arms, bringing your hands to the back of his head and sliding fingers through his hair. Before he responded, he leaned forward to kiss you, deep but gentle as he breathed you in. 

"I'll tell you all about it over breakfast." He whispered with a smile, hands slipping beneath the bottom of your shirt and pushing up until he reached your bra to unhook it. With a happy sigh and quick movement, he was rubbing against the skin on your back where it rested, massaging out where it had dug in over the course of the day. 

He stole another kiss, distracting you while he got you comfortable and sitting on the edge of the bed as he moved your bag out of the way. You shimmied beneath the sheets, sinking into a jersey knit heaven as he tucked you in and climbed in at your side. You spooned him, resting your arm over his ribs, hand landing against the mattress near his chest and cuddled close until the exhaustion of sleep overcame you.

A cloudy morning woke you with wind whipping against the side of the house. The bedroom window rattled with the gusts as you stretched beneath the blankets and reached for Jack. Already gone from the bed, distant sounds of sizzling carried through the halls to you. All your things had already been put away, somewhere behind a door in the hallway the dryer was spinning on a final cycle for clothes he'd already washed for you. Wrapped in warmth, you made your way to the kitchen, watching him stir something on the stovetop with one hand, the other holding a screen scrolling through agent data. You pushed out a sigh, hugging at him from behind and pressing your face into his shoulder blades. 

"Still looking through Overwatch stuff?" 

"Winston's been sending you information on every agent they have so far. He really wants you there, I think he needs leaders." 

"That doesn't surprise me." You took the screen from him, moving to sit at the table, knees to your chest as you looked through some of the files he had open. After a few unfamiliar names, you hit some that made your eyebrows raise. "I would have thought Reinhardt was too old to come back and fight?"

"He's apparently been taking justice into his own hands, with the daughter of the lead engineer from Overwatch. Did you ever get the chance to meet Torbjörn and his family?" 

"Torbjörn, yes. His family, no. He actually made me special armor for my neck after... well, it kept me safe. He's great at what he does." 

"He is, it looks like his daughter took after him too. She's been helping Reinhardt with his armor and seems to be just as brilliant." He paused to stare into an empty spot on the wood floor, lost in a memory. He cracked a small smile and laughed to himself. "I don't think I've seen Brigitte in over ten years. Last time I was able to spend any time with their family she was sautering together pieces of scrap metal for her art class and wore way too much eyeliner. Now she's joining Overwatch and protecting people." 

You sat in silence, chewing at the inside of your cheek. It was almost physically painful for him to be here, to allow others to fight his fight while he worked in the shadows. A bizzare guilt twisted in your stomach, he was only staying because of you. As soon as you joined Overwatch he'd be at your side in a heartbeat, he'd have someone to vouch for the mystery man behind the mask. Without you there was no explaining who he was, there was no way for strangers to trust a man with a pulse rifle bursting through the doors demanding to command troops. 

Get Gabe.

You just had to get Gabe. In the perfect world, he'd join you in your fight against the second omnic war, against Talon, he'd be right behind you with Jack and your Blackwatch boys and everything would be normal again. 

"Ana's daughter joined too. She's splitting her time between working with Helix security and Overwatch." Jack spoke quietly, nervous almost. "Ana never wanted her anywhere near Overwatch."

"Jack?" 

He looked to you, eyes tired and longing. 

"I promise. This is the last chance with Gabe." You swallowed your pride. This would be your last shot, the one final attempt to bring Gabe home. If this didn't do it, you promised Jack a million times over that you'd give it a rest and finally join forces with Overwatch again. "Three weeks, that's it. If I can't find him, or if I do and it goes south, I promise I'll be on the next flight to Gibraltar."   

"Ana and I will be right behind you." His smile was tight before he turned back to his cooking food. "Do you think McCree will come with you?" 

"I'm not sure. He's hesitant, and I can't blame him after the way he left, but I can see he still wants to do good. He wants to help, and I think if he meets me in Verona then he'll probably go to Overwatch." 

"You need to be prepared that he may only want to kill Gabe. Can you handle that?" 

"Yes." You lied straight through your teeth. It would destroy you, probably send you into an emotional downward spiral- but that's not even a possibility you would consider. You could stop him, if he tried. "I think he just needs to see that Gabe is still in there. He's made some terrible choices, but he can be saved. Jesse will see that, he has to see that." 

"For your sake, I sure hope so sweetheart." 

* * *

Your first week in Verona was completely alone. Just you, an empty safe house, and a bag of surveillance equipment. Talon seemed to be picking up activity, you monitored with hacked street cameras and unsecured satellite, watching as they prepared for something big. Your heart jumped as you spied a familiar glimpse of purple hair through flashes in the windows, knowing Sombra was at the very least alive and moving freely was comforting after her radio silence. Trying as hard as you could, every attempt to access their secured communication channels failed. Sombra had apparently done a little too well helping them protect themselves. The most you managed to get into were the open microphones of agents personal phones, you'd never been quite so happy some agents broke the rules by not locking away before starting duty. 

Through shifting fabric and roaring background noise, you managed to catch something. A mention of a party, a masquerade starting at the end of the week citywide, they were talking about costumes and masks. Particularly alarming, they were talking about preparing a mask for _Doomfist_. While you were too focused on trying to find intelligence on Gabe, lost in agents conversations about a masquerade and the gathering of Talon leaders, it managed to slip by you that Doomfist was escaping from his heavily guarded cell at Helix prison.

You blamed yourself for not listening close enough, for not catching it sooner- maybe you could have prevented him escaping, you could have told someone what they were planning if you hadn't brushed off anything that wasn't Gabe. 

At the end of that first week, you felt helpless. Doomfist would be in town soon, leaders of Talon would be meeting at a masquerade which would mean Gabe would be a needle in a haystack. Two weeks to go and you felt nothing but failure, felt lost without Jack there to help you. You couldn't even call him, he was in a dead zone on the edge of Egypt with Ana only able to check in every few days. For a moment, you almost gave up- until an all to familiar knock sounded from the front door of the safe house that had you jumping to your feet and running straight to it. 

"Jesse?" You practically sobbed as you almost tore the door from its hinges. A scruffy cowboy with a beard much too big for his face shifted on his feet, adjusting a dirty bag at his shoulders and lighting a cigar between his teeth. 

"Echo's safe, should be arrivin' to Gibraltar any day now." He flicked a lighter, stuffing it in his pocket before blowing out a long cloud of rancid smoke. 

"Winston will be very thankful. I'm glad you came, Jesse. I need you here." 

"Well, yeah. Don't get used to it, I don't plan on stayin' for long. Just long enough to find that bastard and give him a real piece of my mind." His spurs scraped the old tile as he shuffled in, eyes scanned the empty front room devoid of real furniture before landing on your makeshift bed through the open door to another room. "Nice place." He sarcastically drolled at you, setting his bag down heavy on the floor. 

"Don't get settled in just yet." You grabbed that stupid cowboy hat off his head and placed it on your own. "We're going to need some costumes." 

He argued the whole way there, practically being dragged by you down the streets of Verona to all sorts of shops for a last minute shopping trip to disguise yourselves. At the very least you could blend in at the masquerade, try to smoke out Gabe by recalling his usual patterns. It wasn't a guarantee, but it was something that would at least get you a little closer. Shop after shop, you hopped around the city only able to piece together things that hid you just enough before you were on your way with weapons and Jesse in tow to Rialto determined to finally put an end to your wild goose chase. 

For a while he helped you with surveillance, listening in to determine the exact time when Talon leaders would be gathering at the headquarters. You were getting frustrated, unable to catch anything useful. Jesse was getting annoyed, clearly bothered that you were making him do work for this then criticizing how you were doing it at the same time. There was bickering, you expected it after not seeing him for so long. Little digs at each other clearly avoiding the real conversation, but you weren't quite sure if you were ready to get into an argument with him when he already had his foot halfway out the door at any moment.  

Pouting about his outfit and you snubbing out his cigar the third time he lit it, Jesse hunched in his seat pretending to sleep beneath his hat the entire drive over. He continued his childish behavior even at the hotel, setting his bags down a little too hard, slamming the bathroom door just a little too loud, refusing to speak to you when you'd ask him what he wanted to eat as you left to grab dinner. He refused to touch his food, arms crossed, angrily staring into the TV reporting on Doomfist's escape until you finally snapped at him.

"Will you grow up? It's just a costume, you'll only be wearing it for a night." You threw his cloak at him, face pinched together with a sour expression. 

"Oh, that's sweet." He snarled at you. "You think _that's_ what I'm angry about? Havin' to wear a flamboyant little get up? Get real." 

"Just fucking say it Jesse. I know you want to be mad at me for bringing you to see Gabe, just _say it."_  

"How can you not be as angry as I am about this?!" He raised his voice before bringing fists to his eyes and pressing knuckles against tear ducts. "The man's an outright murder, he tried to kill you! Don't you remember that you couldn't talk for days, and all because of him?! Gabe went off the fuckin' rails long before he became this -this -this fuckin' _thing_ he is now. He's become a monster and all you want to do is _talk_ to him. You think you can bring him back with, what? A trip down memory lane of all the good times we had with him, like movie nights where you ripped your top off, or sending us into war zones under secret fuckin' orders? You can't bring him back, no matter how much you think you can, and I'm tellin' you right now- he doesn't deserve the benefit of the doubt. He deserves to be rottin' in a grave somewhere for all the shit he's done." 

"Noted." You were grinding your teeth together, holding your tongue. With a sharp breath through your nose you considered warning him, threatening him that if he pulled his gun on Gabe he wouldn't be fast enough to outlive a shot from you. Instead, you stayed seething in silence, jaw tight and eyes burning at him.       

"You could have asked Genji to come with you instead." Jesse continued, making a show of relighting his cigar. "But you know he woulda killed him. I bet you think I'll be soft, that's it isn't it? You think I won't do it."

"I thought you would have been a little more grateful to the man who kept you out of prison." You finally spat out, pulling off your hoodie to change into your own costume. Jesse glared, locking eyes with yours as the flame from his lighter lingered at the end of the cigar. "I thought he was family to you." 

"Family doesn't try to choke each other out." He turned to angrily button up a sleek black dress shirt, fingers struggling to work through the tiny buttons. "Family doesn't work for the goddamn enemy." 

"He would never give up on you like this." 

"He did give up on me!" There it was, the sharp scream as he turned to you with an untucked open shirt, tears welling at the corners of his eyes. "When I was out lookin' for Ana, where was he?! That fuckin' strike commander was on my back, pressuring me to come back to base and Reyes couldn't give less of a shit about what I was doin'. He gave up on me, gave up on Blackwatch to focus on whatever shady shit you were doin' with him. At some point he stopped bein' the Blackwatch commander and just became _your_ commander. He changed you while I was out lookin' for Ana, he changed you for the worse and when I tried to confront him he just beat the shit outta me and expected me to keep quiet. Reyes gave up on me a long time ago."

You stared at him in shocked silence, hands shaking as they balled at the center of your shirt. He was right but you couldn't admit it, not out loud at least. He rolled his eyes and groaned out as he patted the corners of his eyes just a little too rough. A strained huff left him, his shoulders spinning back to face the mirror and attempt buttons again. Through the smoke of his cigar he was sniffing in dry sobs, fingers fumbling over and over again with the same button at the top of his neck until he let out a frustrated groan. Your heart was pulling in all different directions, pain and guilt bouncing around in it. Not wanting to see him struggle anymore, you gently tugged at the edge of the shirt until he turned to face you.

"I'm sorry, Jesse." Your voice was soft. He stayed completely still as you buttoned the ridiculously tiny buttons for him, all the way to the bottom of his shirt. Knowing his cigar smoke would bother your eyes, he held it between his fingers, low at his side away from you while you worked. "All I ask is that you give him a chance to apologize too. I know it's hard right now, but give him a chance. If you come in guns blazing then I can't blame him for attacking you back." 

"The moment I feel somethin' ain't right-"

"I know." You looked up to his eyes, patting your hand on his chest as a small smile lingered on your lips. "I know, Jesse." 

He returned to his reflection to examine the shirt. Satisfied with your work, he moved to change into fitted pants as you changed into your dress. It was a light dress, dark purple at the top fading down into a soft pink where it fluffed out mid calf with endless layers of tulle that moved around you like a cloud. Spilling over from a boned bodice, glittering silver stars covered the skirt all the way to the neckline that fell ever so gracefully off your shoulders to long sheer sleeves. 

"He's going to recognize your scars." Jesse said in an angry huff after he zipped you in, touching where your scars bleed out past the drop shoulder over your skin almost to your collarbone.

"Good." You deadpanned, buttoning up the ends of the sleeves at your wrists and pulling on white gloves. Jesse eyed you nervously, watching as you strapped Genji's blades to a holster on your thigh and Jack's pistol to the other. You dropped the edge of the fluffy skirt, twirling it out with little motions with your hips before looking up to him. "Hidden?" 

"No one would ever guess that's what you're hiding under there." He looked down to the gun he holstered with his crusty brown leather hip holster before circling on his cloak. It hid his weapons perfectly, so long as he kept it closed. Dressed mostly in black, the extravagant cloak landed about mid-thigh for him, the pattern on the outside creating oversized wings of a monarch butterfly. 

"Stick close by. Since we narrowed their target areas down to just a few blocks, we'll need to work together to catch any signs of Gabe or Talon." With a final once over in the mirror, you pulled on your mask. A half-moon covered a portion of your face, clusters of stars matching your dress on the other. Extravagant enough on its own, it hid your face mostly in shadow. Jesse pulled on a black mask that twisted around with bug like qualities.    

As darkness overtook the city, streets were roaring with music and people. A deep breath, and Jesse's hand in yours, you stepped out to a massive party with the intent of finding your needle in the haystack. To any onlookers, you were a young couple enjoying the festivities. A ploy you'd played with Jesse before, always annoyed when he was distracted by handsome men who looked his way. Your eyes were scrutinizing every mask it saw, however. This one too skinny, this one too short, this one was close but nearly extravagant enough. 

Rounds and rounds through the streets you walked, surveying every person you possibly could until your feet were aching and Jesse convinced you to rest with him against the cold stone of a bridge. Most people wouldn't have noticed, too drunk, having too much fun, but you caught it. A shining bullet against the moonlight that pierced across the sky, silently hitting a man who never saw it coming. You stifled a gasp and pointed in another direction so no one would be the wiser as you told Jesse exactly what you saw. 

"There's someone on the roof up there." He mumbled, attempting not to raise any alarms from onlookers. 

"Talon agents are already surrounding the body." You hid your mouth behind your hand, faking as if you were laughing. "Shit, did you see that? The power just cut in that building. We need to move." 

Hooking arms with him, you casually strolled toward a glassed ceiling building ignoring the agents hiding a murder in plain sight. 

"Look up." Jesse breathed, face turned to you and eyes wide. You lifted your eyes just in time to watch a man jump from a high ledge, crashing through the ceiling and evaporating into smoke. You listened in horror to the sound of shots blasting away, muffled beneath deafening music and rowdy crowds. "That has to be him." 

"Let's go." You dropped the act of a nice couple, running towards the building only to stop and hide in the shadows as the massive figure in red sauntered from the building down towards a long bridge leading to a private estate high above the ocean. 

Curled around the corner, even from a distance, you could see a man who could only be Doomfist discussing something with another person in a sharp suit. The man in red slowly made his way towards them, seemingly uncaring of whatever business deal was occurring. You knew who was behind the extravagant red costume with the skull mask long before you heard him speak. You had taken a few too many sneak peeks at his sketchbooks in his room, watched him sewing early in the morning just a few too many times to not know he lurking behind the dramatic garb. Jesse instinctively held his hand hovering over his gun, waiting for an opportunity to pull it out when you were both distracted by the much too close by the sound of bells jingling around you. You judgingly looked at Jesse, silently blaming him for the noise before he curled his lip at you and shook his hands in the air to show it wasn't him.          

"Do you understand how stupid it is for you to be here right now?" A familiar voice rolled out at you before Sombra flickered into view directly in front of you. Dressed as a jester, makeup to match, bells hanging from her at every angle, you stared almost in disbelief that someone dressed like this would warn you of anything. "Talon guards are crawling all over this place, you're going to get yourself killed."

"Who the hell-" 

"I just need to talk to Gabe-" You pleaded beneath your breath, cut off by the sound of screaming from a man being thrown over the edge of the bridge. You looked to her, completely puzzled. "What the hell is going on here?" 

"They're getting rid of old enemies and people of power that used to be in Talon, now that Doomfist is out, he wants complete control." She clicked her tongue. "I would be stealthing into their meeting room right now, but then I saw you two idiots over here. Their patrol will be at this spot in three minutes, there's no way you're following him in, whatever this is, it's a lost cause." 

"You two _know_ each other?" Jesse hissed out between you. "Are you working with someone _in_ Talon?!"   

"I hired her to be my eyes on Talon." You scolded back before snapping to Sombra. "Something she _seems_ to have forgotten. Helping Doomfist escape prison, Sombra, really? You didn't think that was important enough to tell me?" 

"I've been dealing with some stuff." Her voice was clearly upset but her demeanor remained calm. "Thanks for leaving me to escape from that data center in Egypt by myself, by the way. _Really_ appreciate getting caught off guard when I realized you weren't even listening to my channel anymore. Was seeing your precious little Gabe worth it? They tortured me for days afterwards trying to find out what info I stole. No. I won't let you talk to him. He was a mess for a week after that stunt you pulled in Egypt, refused to come out of that psycho doctor's lab when we needed him to make some important decisions. I'm just now getting to what I came here to do, and I can't let you ruin that by having him fall to pieces now. He's the only one I have any _leverage_ over." 

"I brought you to Talon, you're own mission doesn't matter when you're not doing the job I've been paying you to do. Focus on my job or else-" 

"Or else what? The money will stop? Fine by me, I don't need it anymore. Funny thing is, Talon is filthy rich, they don't seem to notice when money just slips right by them." Her dark clown makeup twisted into a smile. "And I don't need you bossing me around anymore. You have two minutes until the guards come, that's the last help you'll get from me." 

You sputtered out, reaching for her to shake her, but she vanished with the press of a button. Breathing heavy, Jesse tried to steady you to push you towards a better hiding spot just in time to miss a patrol guard. 

"That ungrateful brat." You huffed. "She's going to get herself killed with that attitude." 

"Whatever that was, we can't focus on it." Jesse said hoping to distract you. "It looks like they're closing the front doors now. That bridge is the only way to leave that house, if we're going to get Gabe, we have to do it here. Approaching it will just make us visible so we're going to have to wait him out." 

You shook in the cold sea breeze, body curling in on itself as you waited silently with Jesse in the dark. Stars in the sky above moved, the noises of a city-wide party dwindled to a low buzz of people laughing on their way home. Hours, you guessed it was hours that you waited there and hugged your knees to you trying to stay warm. Hours before the estate doors opened and a familiar omnic climbed into a fancy car, driven away with a caravan of Talon escorts. Other leaders, or what you assumed were leaders, left in a similar fashion. Doomfist exited with the man in red and a tall figure with a painted on smile across their face. It didn't take long for you to recognize Moira, to see through the terrifying face paint to the cold scientist beneath. She shook hands with Doomfist before he was taken away by another agent squad over the bridge and into the glittering city. 

Moira opened a door to a car low on the ground, waiting for Gabe to sit down before she circled to the other side. They started away without the same protection as the others. 

"If Sombra interferes, stop her." You said low to Jesse, readying to get in the way of the car Moira and Gabe were climbing into.

Unafraid, you sprinted to the center of the bridge, forcing the car to either brake in front of you or hit you as it gained speed. You caught your breath as it came at you, seeming almost as if it would sweep your legs out beneath you before it came to a screeching halt swerving to the side. With his door toward you, Gabe pushed it open, his extravagant costume and skull mask covering him but you could feel the way he looked at you. His steps were slow, you stood with your shoulders back, purposeful as you stood your ground. At the car, Moira roughly opened her door and shouted him.

"Ignore her, Gabriel." Her voice couldn't have broke your heart more. She looked you in the eyes, burning with a fury you'd never seen in them. "Get back in the car, don't you remember what this did to you last time?" 

"Reyes!" Jesse shouted behind you, voice grating with anger. 

"You don't have to keep doing this." You tried to cut through their shouting around you. "Gabe, please. I know you don't want to do this, I know you don't _want_ to hurt people. Aren't you tired?"

"I-" 

"Reyes, you coward!" Jesse was running behind you, rushing past with a fist in the air throwing all his weight towards a blow to Gabe right at his covered face. 

Without even as much as a flinch, Gabe caught Jesse's fist in his, holding it in the air and he struggled to finish the punch. He tried to move with his other hand but Gabe caught it too, his massive hands curled around Jesse's pushing him down until he was shaking to fight back, the heels of his feet dug into the asphalt only to slip beneath Gabe's strength sending Jesse to his knees. You held your breath as Gabe carefully lowered to one knee in front of him, mask cocking to the side in curiousness as he continued to overpower Jesse.

"Still not strong enough to fight back against me, are you Jesse?" Gabe's voice was grating, cold and mocking he was clearly trying to goad him to push back harder. "Come on kid, I know you have more than that in you." 

"Fuck you!" Jesse roared as he swept a leg beneath Gabe's footing, sending him off balance just enough to get behind him. 

They started throwing fists, blocking and dodging hits that tried to make contact but Jesse was too fast for him and Gabe would burst into smoke. They spun around each other fighting to a point where both you and Moira had to take steps back to get out of their way, they fought, but as soon as you heard Gabe laugh behind his mask, you recognized it for what it actually was. They weren't actually fighting, it looked like they were sparring and Gabe was tiring him out. Jesse was wavering, circling around Gabe refusing to punch him, Gabe would aim only when he knew he wouldn't make contact. 

"Why won't you actually hit me?" Jesse asked exasperated, fists lowering as he joined you at your side. 

"I only kill if I have to."

Jesse sucked in a breath, ready to argue against that.

"That beard looks terrible on you." Gabe's voice rumbled out. "How long as it been since you've shaved?" 

"Gabriel, we need to leave. They're expecting us." Moira held her stern face, mismatched eyes dropping away from yours whenever you tried to meet them. "This reunion is over."

"You can finish this with Overwatch." Your voice was shaking. "We can finish this together, the Blackwatch team back together, old friends. You don't have to do these terrible things anymore, Gabe. I promise, we can find a way to protect you from the things you've done. We can help you with however bad the deterioration has got, Angela's been working on some amazing stuff and I know if you just give it a chance maybe we could even fix you." 

Still hidden beneath the mask, he turned to look at Moira for a few moments too long. A breeze rolled over chilled skin, hairs on your arm stood with the air.

"There is no _fixing_ death." He snarled, one hand on the car door as he thought about his next words. "Overwatch cannot help me. _You_ cannot help me. Stop asking the doc here for updates on me, you're only making things worse."

"Reyes-" 

"Don't, Jesse." Gabe started to climb into his car, only to pause and turn to you. "Talon will be sending omnic forces to the same location as the uprising in London in a month. Doomfist wants complete destruction, humans and omnics at an odds. If you really want to help me, be there and be prepared for a fight." 

"I don't want to fight you." You pleaded beneath your breath. 

You could feel his eyes looking into yours beneath the mask, your heart knowing burning red centers were probably staring at the permanent bruises only he could see with enhanced vision covering your exposed neck. Moira disappeared into the passenger seat, Gabe stood and looked to you seemingly as if he wanted to say something more. 

"Jack will be there." You threatened, giving into his warning of Talon's looming attack. "Ana, too. Genji. They won't hold back, they don't see you how I do. They only see Reaper."

"There is _only_ Reaper." 

"You're breaking my heart, Gabe." Your voice cracked as Jesse reached for your hand. 

The sea breeze caught your skirt, twirling it at your legs as Gabe closed the distance between you with long strides. Jesse's hand squeezed tighter, in fear or anticipation you weren't sure which. Staying completely still, you lifted your head to look into the empty sockets of the skull as gloved hands carefully untied your mask and let it fall to the gravel. Jesse's arm shifted beneath the butterfly cloak, the hand not in yours resting over his gun at his hip. He wasn't fast enough. He couldn't fathom how quickly Gabe would move, darting from his hands at your face to a hard blow at Jesse's stomach and a knee between his legs that sent him crumpling to the ground. You panicked, stepping backward away from Gabe as Jesse pressed arms to his center groaning in terrible pain.      

He grabbed your arm, pulling you against him in a swift motion before flipping you hard to the ground. On the landing your back audibly cracked, sending a shock of pain through your spine and your body reeling with the sudden jolt of fear. Your dress was ripping against the rough ground, stars sewen in falling off in the hard jostle. Jesse's head snapped up, staring at you through watering eyes, arm reaching out in a lame attempt to help you, but Gabe dragged you by your legs as you kicked trying to get away from him. A scream ripped from your throat as he lifted you, holding strong with just the hand around one ankle, you tried to breathe but couldn't as sobs caught in your throat and your tulle skirt edge fell to your shoulders- he was hanging you upside down above the long fall off the edge of the bridge, one drop away from a choppy ocean. 

"If I couldn't scare you before maybe this will." His voice was biting between teeth, almost close to his commander's voice. "You, Jesse, everyone at Overwatch should be scared of me. Do not take my caring for you as weakness. I spent too long chasing my memories, too long remembering every last terrible that happened to me while I was under Overwatch's care. I will sooner kill every person I have ever cared about than return to a place that left me for dead or to the people who turned their backs on me when I was losing my mind."   

"I never turned my back on you!" You cried, trying desperately to still yourself with fists balling into the fabric of the skirt falling around you. "Never!" 

"You left! Right when I needed you most, you left with _Jack_ of all people. You gave up on our mission, you left me to pick up the pieces of the mess we'd made together!" His fingers tightened around you, feeling in your foot was slowly numbing.

"I didn't-" 

"Even _you_ turned your back on me." His voice was getting softer beneath the winds. "Eventually everyone will turn their back on you, too. Once you lose control, once you scare them, they'll push you away and I won't be here to help you." 

"Please, Gabe." You twisted your shoulders, trying as hard as you could look at him as wind whipped your hair into your eyes. "Please bring me back up. You made your point, you're scaring me. Please." 

He moved carefully, lifting you up and away from the edge of the bridge so a gust of wind wouldn't knock your head on the stone. Once back over solid ground, he slowly lowered you, shoulders first to the ground before dropping your leg heavy to the asphalt and kneeling at your side. You were taking deep panicked breaths, dry sobs catching in your chest as the wind tried to take them away. The ankle he held you with hurt the same way it had when you hung from a chord trying to keep Jesse from falling to his death, you could already feel the bruise forming around it.

"I'm sorry-"

"I'm long past apologies." He growled out. At the car, Moira pressed down on a pitchy horn, grabbing Gabe's attention. He turned to stare her direction for only a moment before looking down to you again, moving hair from your forehead beading in cold sweat. "London. One month. Come for a fight."

You let out a terrible ugly sob, tears rolling off your cheeks to the side of your face as a gloved finger attempted to wipe them away.

"Don't cry. I'm not there to make you hot chocolate anymore."      

In the moment it took for you to catch your breath and squeeze your eyes shut, he left your vision. Puff of smoke falling into the wind only to reappear as a red form in the driver's side of the car. You laid motionless, far from Jesse who was trying with all his strength to stand up again, but the car sped off leaving behind a cloud of dirt and your empty threats to the wind. Too far away to care about you writhing in pain, Gabe's car disappeared into the city. Jesse managed to limp his way to you, falling to his knees at your side. He looked defeated, no longer angry, just empty as he pulled the edges of your skirt down to cover you in a decent way. 

"That didn't go so well, now did it?" He tried to laugh through his pain but he fell to the ground next to you. 

"Give me your phone." You demanded through controlled sobs.

Jesse dug around in his pants pocket, groaning and holding his stomach as he pulled it and placed it in your waiting palm. Your call went straight to voicemail, expected, but it only made this all the more painful. With closed eyes and a short tone, you left a simple message that said everything you needed to about your personal mission to save someone who didn't want to be saved. 

"We'll be on the next flight out to Gibraltar."  

* * *

There was no arguments after that. No petty jabs, no blaming, just two hurt people making their way back to a shady motel on the far side of town. You took turns icing injuries, your ankle and Jesse's stomach. He didn't even light a cigar that night, instead he slept in the bed next to you, curled around a leaking bag of ice and your hands hooked together in a terrible solidarity. You rested your head on his shoulder the whole plane ride, ignoring the swelling at your ankle and the uncomfortable grunts he made every time he moved. Even though your conversations were quiet, everything left unsaid was enough to make you feel closer to Jesse than you had before he'd left Overwatch. In the car heading into base he held his robotic arm over your shoulder, keeping you close as your eyes were set on a temporary intake center just past the reinforced gates. 

Starry-eyed agents took your information, updating the system to indicate that you were reenrolled as an active agent. Through their screens you watched a popup, just beneath the rank of captain, indicating that if you were to show up on the property you needed to be sent to Winston's section immediately. Donned with temporary badges, bruises and mental baggage you couldn't take your mind off of, you and Jesse were carted away in a driverless cart all the way to the outside of Winston's office. Not even a few minutes passed before you heard the telling signs of gorilla feet stomping across the metal flooring and the bay doors opened with your name being called from them. 

“Winston!” You called out as you hurried up the steps as much as you could with your busted ankle.

As soon as he appeared a large smile spread across his face and he came running at you. You jumped to him, landing into a twirling hug as he lifted you from the ground. He laughed as you crashed into him, face burying in thick fur on his shoulder.

“We almost didn’t think you’d be joining us!” He chuckled at you, shaking you side to side making you just a little dizzy. “We could use your help in the control room as soon as you get settled, we need to put a cap on a possible leak we have online. Someone is posting about Overwatch restarting.”

"Sounds good." You laughed. He moved to let go of you, making you grab tighter to him afraid to drop and hurt your ankle further. "Ah, sorry can you put me down gently? Jesse and I had a bit of an incident." 

Curious, he carefully placed you back on the ground and stepped back to look at your bruised ankle then to Jesse who was trying to put on a fake smile hidden beneath his cowboy hat. 

"What happened?" His face told you he couldn't exactly put together just what you and Jesse had gone through. 

"Reaper." You sighed. "There's a lot I need to go over with you-"  

"Not yet." Winston remarked, happier than you thought he would. "You need to take care of yourself first. Let's go get you in your room, I'll have the medical staff send up a bioemitter so we can heal that right up. Once you're feeling better you can tell me all about it and help out with that online nonsense." Winston led you down a familiar hall, straight to a room that you just knew from the door was the one you once spent sharing with Jack. "I uh, I wanted to make sure you were comfortable here, so I saved this room for you if you ever joined us. Agent McCree, you're just a few doors up to the left. Come on-" 

Just like that you were alone. 

Jesse left with Winston, you were sitting on a bed looking into a bathroom with a steel shower that Jack bearly squeezed into. Closed blinds created little lines of light that streaked across the carpet and over your feet. The room felt familiar and safe, but it felt so empty. You fell backward, raising your leg far above you in the air to twist and turn your ankle in the lines of lights. In the moment of quiet, you breathed in deep, allowing yourself to sink into the mattress as much as possible, finally trying to have a true moment to yourself. 

A moment turned into a disorienting question mark as you woke to a darkened room and Jesse's knocking at your door. 

"I'm heading down to get dinner, you wanna come?" His voice was hesitant, almost unsure if you were awake. A little laugh came from the other side of the door. "Winston said they have the same gummy bears down there that they had at the Swiss base."  

More than content with just dinner you walked with him to a commissary much smaller than the one you were used to. One of the first things that struck you was just how many omnics there were, more than Overwatch had in it's ranks, more than you'd ever imagined there would be joining to fight a war against their own kind. Many of them sat with friends, human friends who were enjoying their meals, content just to have idle conversation and experience the same things humans did. Many of the faces you didn't recognize, many new that offered you no second glance, no glare or prejudgment for an attitude you'd held years ago. You perked up through the food line, following Jesse who piled his plate high. 

In the crowd you found Genji, between bites he was excitedly speaking to a girl. He was so enthralled with the conversation, he didn't notice who you were until you sat at his side and stole a forkful of his noodles. All too happy to see you, he embraced you as you tried to eat, hugging you from the side and swaying you before he realized Jesse was sitting on the other side of him. 

"It is good to see you again, Jesse." Genji smiled at him. "Look how long your hair is!" 

"Whys everybody have somethin' to say 'bout my hair?" Jesse pouted as Genji pulled at the long ends. "It's good to see you too, Genji. You seem different. Relaxed or somethin'. Where's that doctor girlfriend of yous?" 

"In her lab, as always." Genji laughed. "I'd like you both to meet my new friend Hana! She's a pilot with the- um, I am sorry Hana, what was it again?" 

"Mobile Exo-Force of the Korean Army!" She sounded so chipper it almost made you gag. "Genji was telling me he was the best gamer in all of Blackwatch, is that true?" 

"Well I don't know about that." Jesse teased, knowing damn well Genji would beat him at any game they played. 

"Hana says she's played all the games that used to be at this arcade up the street from my family home. We'll have to have a competition someday, I'll show you who's boss." He was smiling, laughing even, and it was a happiness that wasn't just superficial. He really had changed, you could see it just from the way his eyes kept their focus, from the smile lines slowly coming in around his mouth. Genji was finally happy and it showed. He turned to you, looking you over as you stared at him. "Winston said you fought Reaper, are you doing alright?" 

"It's okay, he just messed up my ankle a little-" 

"You look sad." Genji interrupted, placing a hand over your arm. You felt like everyone in the commissary was staring at you, waiting for your reaction, waiting to hear from you just how much it fucked you up that you couldn't piece together your family.

"I'm... starting to think there's no getting him back, Genji. There's something in him still hanging on to this life, but he's dangerous and violent. I guess I am a little sad, realizing that we might not get him back. That maybe we are just destined to fight until one of us kills the other." 

"Do not give up on him." Genji was offering you life advice in a place you'd much rather he didn't. Agents were staring at the cyborg and the scarred woman having a heart to heart above plastic tray dinners. "If you give up on him, then you are only sealing his fate. It may take time, but there is always a chance things may turn around."

"It sounds like you're talking from experience." You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. 

"I am. I could not forgive my brother if I had given up on him. He is on a better path now, commander Reyes may just need more time." He was trying to be helpful but it was just making your head hurt. You were sure he could see how uncomfortable he was making you, along with everyone else at the table. 

His new friend Hana picked at her food, checking her phone and refreshing the same site over and over in an attempt to pretend to look busy. You forked at your meal while Genji moved on to catch up with Jesse, cringing as you listened to Jesse ungracefully dodge his questions about how he'd manage to lose his arm. Even though he was clearly still bitter about it, Jesse was trying to save face with Genji since he seemed to have worked so hard on forgiving the brother who killed him. 

That night you tossed and turned with restless sleep. The thought of being alone in that room was driving you crazy, you almost caved in and wandered to Jesse's room but you couldn't make yourself get out of bed fearing that would come off as too weak. Gabe's words as he hung you over a bridge edge haunted you. He'd feared so much you'd become like him, the last thing he wanted was to look into your eyes and see his endless blacks, but now he seemed all too engrossed with the idea of you falling deeper into that. It was a warning and a threat, that if you pushed yourself, if you started to turn into the monster he became, he would revel in it but not help you get through it the way you had with him. 

After an early breakfast, a meal you ate alone as Jesse slept in, there was commotion through the halls. Clamoring about a new arrival spread through groups as everyone seemed to jump from their seats to head outside, you knew before you even saw the sunlight exactly who would be waiting at one of the driverless carts outside the compound. 

Two masked figures, Winston followed you out with a raised brow your direction as you made your way to them. 

"Is it really him?" Winston sounded shocked. "Is that really commander mo-" 

"Jack Morrison is dead." You said over your shoulder, locking eyes with the gorilla. You bit at your cheek, hiding a smirk. "Officially, anyway."  

"Who is that with him?" He hurried at your side, following you all the way to the two waiting. A small crowd gathered around them, some attempting to talk to the infamous Soldier 76 as they waited for the official introduction. 

"Winson, my friend. It's been much too long!" Ana's cheery voice greeted him as you met them, she removed her mask without a second thought and Winston went crashing towards her in an overwhelming hug. Members of the crowd whispered among themselves both in confusion who she was and to those that recognized her, amazement. 

"Captain Amari, it's- it's an honor, I had no idea- how did- I can't believe you're alive!" He adjusted his glasses, almost not believing what he was seeing. With a cheeky grin he turned to Jack who was hidden behind his mask, white hair poking up above it. He nodded towards him. "Sir." 

"It's good to be back, Winston. I think we have a lot of plans to make, and not a lot of time. Can you have a briefing room ready in ten?" There it was. That commander's voice, it was older now, no longer cocky instead nothing but confidence. 

"Of course." Winston turned on his knuckles. "Welcome back, Strike Commander."  


	50. A Normal Day

"I was so worried about you." Jack's voice was strained as he held you in a tight hug after pulling you into an empty training room. He lifted his mask, pushing it over white hair to kiss at the top of your head and curl gloved fingers into your hair. "What happened? Did he hurt you?" 

"I'm okay." You tried to smile at him as he twisted your jaw carefully this way and that to inspect you for any signs of a fight. "Jesse got the brunt of it, it's mostly my ankle he messed with-"

"Your ankle?" He backed up, dropping to crouch down at your legs and starting to untie your shoes to get a better look but you steadied yourself on his shoulders and sighed before stepping back. He lifted his eyes to look up at you with question. "What did he do?"  

"I tried to talk to him, for a second I thought maybe I was actually getting through to him but he still fought me. He... grabbed me by the ankle and dangled me over the edge of this bridge, he was trying to scare me, he wants me to hate him-"

"He _what_ -"

"Jack, listen, _please_. Listen to me before you flip your lid." You held your breath as Jack stood, his hands landing at the sides of your face to cup your cheeks and listen with intent. "He knew he was putting me in danger, but he was holding me way tighter than he needed to, I think he was afraid of dropping me. When I asked him to put me down, he did and he made sure not to hurt me in any permanent way. I think he was just trying to scare me, to make me feel that he does. He's angry, he thinks everyone he knew and loved betrayed him, he wants to see Overwatch suffer but I think he's still trying to destroy Talon too. He told me Talon will be in London in a month, he told me to be ready for a fight. If he was completely gone, if all he wanted was death, why would he warn me?" 

"He could be testing you, trying to see if you'd show up alone." Jack's hands fell from your face, moving to his chin to scratch through patchy facial hair growing in. "He knows you've been chasing him across the globe and that you still believe that somewhere deep down he's still Gabriel, but he could be trying to play your own emotions against you. I know you don't want to think he would, but he could be trying to trick you or force you to join him with Talon. It wouldn't be the first time they've gone after you." 

"I'm not sure that's it, he wouldn't tell me to be ready for a fight if he thought I might show up without backup."

"Then he could be trying to draw out your allies, or confirm that Overwatch is in operation again. He already knows I'm alive, that Ana is alive, that McCree knows who he is. It could be a way to force your hand into showing who else he needs to take down." 

Voices and footsteps passed in the hall, droves of agents on their way to a meeting Jack was supposed to be running. You shifted in the silence as he seemed to chew over his thoughts. Before he could put anything together you leaned forward, unzipping the front of his jacket and curling your arms around his waist beneath it. He was warm, his body still rigid with hard muscles, but you felt a deep comfort in hugging him close. Your forehead pressed to his chest, lips kissing at the tight uniform shirt around him. 

"I'm not leaving this up to chance." He whispered with fingers combing through the ends of your hair. "No matter what his end goal is, all I know is I will protect you with my life if I have to." 

He kissed you, slow and soft with eyes that lingered beneath worried lashed before pulling his mask back over his face to ready for his first meeting back. You rezipped his jacket, patting his chest to let him silently know you were with him in this and you each slipped out through the door, making your way to the massive meeting room deep beneath the launch field fuel storage area.

You could hear the buzz from the hall, voices bouncing around as you approached, it was an excitement in the air that came to a screeching silence as you entered and all eyes turned to Soldier 76 directly behind you. The room was filled wall to wall with agents, new faces, old faces, people who joined in a call to action either based on their previous status with Overwatch, being hand picked by Winston to join, or the few who managed to find out about the recall on their own and realised it was where they wanted to be. The oversized round table in an area dropped beneath a small balcony was hardly visible from the number of people waiting around it, agents packed in lining the walls, surrounding the table, filling the steps of the wide stairs, they hung over the railings overlooking the dropped section, and they all stared in awe as the man in the leather jacket and the glowing red mask made his way to an empty seat at the table facing the room. 

Standing there in front of everyone, he took a moment to scan the room, to look at as many faces as he could. Even though you couldn't see it, you could feel that he was smiling. 

"Sorry for the short notice everyone." His voice boomed out, echoing through the metal room followed with hushed whispers. "Before we start I'd like to thank each and every one of you for joining us. Overwatch needs people like you, everyday heroes who are willing to fight for the right thing, people who only want peace. Winning this war would not be possible without every single one of you, it takes a lot of bravery to join us knowing that terrorist organizations like Talon are actively trying to put our efforts to an end. We will show them, the world, that we are not to be underestimated. With your help, Overwatch will once again become the beacon of peace it once was." 

People cheered as you stood and smiled at him from your spot at the bottom of the stairs. Seeing him take over again, to be in charge and using his commander's voice, it was both overwhelmingly happy and yet heart-aching at the same time. He was finally back where he was meant to be, commanding just how he used to, but something about it made you feel hollow. 

He gave a rallying speech, one that got the crowd fired up in a way you hadn't seen done in years. He announced he'd work on restructuring the way everything was organized, so people knew who to report to and had a better understanding of their roles. You watched him with a hand curled over your heart as he fell back into the thing he was very best at. Based on your warning, he advised that Talon would be making big moves soon and that he'd be organizing teams to prepare for this potential attack in London, that agents would need to stand by for further instruction. 

After the meeting the crowd dwindled, agents returning to their rooms, to their posts, or to the commissary for lunch. Those who knew, those who held their breath during the meeting with the overwhelming need to greet the formerly dead friend remained to have a small reunion. Lena hugged Jack so hard you thought she might not ever let go, she wailed and beat her fists at his side as he tried to laugh it off. Reinhardt stole Ana away the moment he could reach her, tears welling in his eyes and practically falling to the floor as she smiled at him. Jack didn't take off his mask, no one said his real name, but there was an unspoken love in the room that told you anyone who already knew who he was would return to his command.  

Jack settled back into the role better than you could have ever anticipated. Even behind his mask, people listened to him. There was something about the way he could just walk into a room and people would be on their feet ready for action, something about watching the faces of agents hanging onto his every word as he laid out plans to attack Talon in London, he was a missing puzzle piece that fell right back into place- the only thing that was missing was his bright blue commander’s jacket. Part of putting together a new version of Overwatch meant setting a structure that Winston had up to that point left loose, too many agents were doing whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, with no actual plans. Jack took on a lead role and assigned out different teams to report to his most trusted agents.

He put you as captain to the technology and communications branch. With that, you were given a small team of mostly new hackers and coders who were still learning the ropes of what it meant to code for something like Overwatch. Your first few days as their captain were spent assessing their skills, testing their knowledge. Much to your disappointment, no one met the level you were at, or the level needed to go up against Sombra or Talon.  

Ana was set as captain to ground combat, beneath her both Jesse and Genji helped train new recruits. Part of you wanted to ask if they missed having Gabe as their commander, if they missed waking up early in the morning to practice before the Overwatch teams, but you held your tongue as you watched them happily fit into their new roles. Her other agents were those being trained in sharpshooting or hand to hand combat, many showing promise to be great marksmen.   

Lena became captain to specialized combat, even after you tried to talk Jack out of it late one night while he was going through all the current agent files. 

"She's not ready to be a captain, she still hesitates to make decisions even during training and will impulsively act instead of thinking things through." You pointed to a report on an accident she caused while goofing off in the practice range, an accident that could have been avoided if she'd been acting like someone with authority. "She's too immature still." 

"I'm going to give her the chance to fail." Jack lifted his brows at you, eyeing over the report before pushing it back your way. "As I recall, you weren't perfect either when I gave you the responsibility. I need you to trust me on this." 

With specialized combat, Lena was in charge of agents who didn't quite fit the usual mold that would fall under Ana's command. This included a handful of Helix agents who were splitting their time between the security organization and Overwatch, one of those agents being Ana's daughter. She also seemed to be in charge of two agents who refused to work together, a DJ from Brazil who damaged things using sound waves and a woman of high status with the Vishkar Corporation- you were keeping a close eye on that one, untrusting of the relationship between her and Overwatch after that corporation had worked with Talon and proved to provide tainted technology in the past. 

Reinhardt agreed to captain heavy armor combat only under the condition that Brigette would shadow him to eventually take over (although this was after a resulting argument from Torbjörn wanting nothing to do with his daughter fighting in this war). He was putting together a new generation of crusaders, ones that were just like him- all too willing to fight to their last breath. Along with the new crusaders, he was in charge of other agents from outside his usual idea of heavy armor- he was mentoring Hana the meka pilot, a new type of omnic created from modified parts of other decommissioned omnics by a brilliant girl, and a woman with pink hair who both intimidated and fascinated you.   

Winston was unsurprisingly made the head of research, beneath him not only were the scientific and omnic branches, but the engineering branch as well. This made for a crowded research wing with labs being used for multiple things by multiple people and a lot of infighting about the use of space and tools during the workday.   

Angela reluctantly agreed to once again become the head of medical. It was clear she was there but unhappy about it, probably the only string keeping her there was her access to new facilities and her attachment to a certain agent in the ground combat crew. Her department was by far the most organized when you arrived there, most people had already been structured out to places that best suited their abilities, so instead of moving around agents, she was walking you through the medical wing going over the changes she thought would benefit Overwatch and her the most.

It was as you were waking with her that you caught a glimpse of a familiar face smiling down at someone being treated in a hospital bed. He'd cut his hair from the last time you saw him now sporting a fashionable shave on the side and a bright smile until he turned to greet Angela and his face dropped as he saw you. Immediately your mind went into hyper focus, a biting anger of being used and having no real goodbye bursting up to your surface.    

"Oh, shit." He breathed out as you jumped over a rolling table and lunged right for him. 

Behind you, Angela screamed at the sight of you attacking what she assumed was to you a stranger. Baptiste hit the floor with a heavy thud and all the air leaving his lungs with you on top of him grinding your knees into his stomach to pin him down. He was trying to say something, words stammering out as he stared down to the knife you were pulling on him before Angela tried to grab your wrist to stop you. The poor patient in their hospital bed, already injured and likely out of their mind on some sort of pain medication watched on as you attacked their nurse and fought him to the floor.  

"Where the fuck did you go?! I let you into my life, I thought you were someone we could trust and you just fucking disappeared! Then I hear you left only so you could go back to Talon to kill your former team?" You were shaking him by the collar, anger overtaking you, lips speaking far too fast. The feeling was creeping in, the uncontrollable anger that dared you to give into it. 

"I- I didn't- I never- I haven't killed anyone!" 

"That's not what Sombra told me." You snapped at him, roughly pulling your hand from Angela's grip as she loosened to listen to your conversation with her medic. "She said you came back just to kill every former member on your team, she found them Baptiste-" 

"No, that wasn't me." He was breathing hard, panicking as he looked at you flipping the blade in your palm. "Please, you have to believe me, I could never. I left your house because I thought about going back, but I changed my mind and went on the run. I promise. Talon's been sending people after me since I left, if anything they've been trying to kill _me_. I've mostly been doing humanitarian trips with Dr. Ziegler since I last saw you." 

You looked down at his terrified face, at the way he held his hands in the air as if they were a white flag surrendering to your potential beating. Angela seemed to be shaking as she leaned towards you and grabbed at the back of your shirt.

"We have been protecting each other out in the field." Her voice had a sting to it, a scolding that you would even suggest he was capable of something so heinous. "Since I have been running from the former directors of Overwatch, and Baptiste from Talon, I would know if he was untrustworthy or not. He does not have a harmful bone in his body. Now please, remove yourself from my medic otherwise I will be forced to call 76 down here to reign you in." 

"Don't treat me like a child." You scoffed back, finally pushing yourself from his stomach to stand on your feet, a deep sigh left him before he gasped in to catch his breath. "Whatever friendship you two have doesn't mean anything to me when I know he worked with Talon for most of his life. Whether you are a liar or just a coward, I do not trust you Baptiste."

"You should not trust Sombra either. She only looks out for herself." He stood and looked to you with a darkened seriousness as he straightened out his scrubs. "Talon is full of selfish people and she is no exception just because you thought she was working for you." 

"Do not forget your status, _Captain Morrison_." Angela grabbed your arm as you tried to shove your way through the door. Hearing her call you by that name caught you off guard, something about it just felt so distant and strange. Regardless of the legal name change, something about it no longer being a secret shook you. "You are expected to act as a captain, if you can not handle the responsibility I will make sure 76 knows you are unfit for the duty. You can not attack agents."  

* * *

Three weeks until London.

It was back to waking up with Jack in your arms before the sun was even in the sky. He'd kiss your cheeks to wake you if the alarm didn't, he'd make sure you had a proper uniform laid out before he left each time. Those mornings you'd hop into that metal shower that was far too small, trying hard to wake up on a regular schedule again, as early as it was. 

During the day you hardly saw him, you were too busy with your own teams to pull him away from the plans he was laying out.  

Jack sent Lena home to monitor any rumors or uproar within the omnic community. Routines were starting to fall into place, names attaching to faces as you greeted agents through the stone halls. The most you had to deal with on your own team was your agents exhausting themselves trying to keep up with you- this seemed almost like a luxury compared to the problems other captains were having. There's an adjustment period of living with people who you don't necessarily like, many agents chose to only live on the base part-time, but those who stayed permanently were learning the ins and outs of barrack life. Winston had to break up his fair share of screaming matches between engineers and scientists. The specialized combat team found many of their agents had superiority complexes that needed to be knocked down, but Lena preferred not to get involved. Ana was at her wits' end dealing with the drama of having a daughter who avoided her like the plague.

There was something off about some of Winston's agents. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, it was a pair that seemed to be inseparable despite only one of them belonging to the research team. They looked familiar, or maybe you were just imagining it, but you often saw one of them threatening to blow up other agent's work and you would see a glimmer of true intent in his eyes. Winston came to you sometimes asking for advice on how to be a real leader, often times this meant talking to him in his lab for hours at a time reflecting on your own shitty behavior of the past while you tinkered with something he was building.    

You were complaining to Jesse about one of the arguments you overheard during a lunch of poorly made sandwiches and bland chips. At least you were outside sitting in the sun instead of cooped up in the dreary commissary deep within the mountain, something about the isolation of the island and 90% of the base being underground was threatening to drive you stir crazy. Jesse was clicking the spurs of his boots against the rock in a rhythmic way, lost in thought about something he'd been complaining about when a soft ping sounded off from his back pants pocket, he groaned as he pulled it out to look at a notification flashing across the screen. 

“Looks like we’re gettin’ some new ground combat recruits today. Ana wants me there to help orient ‘em." He stood, grumbling to himself as he brushed off crumbs from his chest. "We’re already sleepin’ in pretty tight quarters, can’t imagine how many more we can take.”

“I’ll walk with you, I need to head that way to meet with 76 anyway.” You hopped up from your seat. 

“You don’t have to call him that around me, y’know?” He scrunched his face, pulling at the ends of his scruffy beard to straighten it out as much as possible- his version of preening to make a good impression on the new recruits. 

“I need to make it a habit. Even if people that knew him before know he’s alive, he still doesn’t want it getting out to the public. It might be an open secret but his name isn't something I should be just throwing around.” You nudged his arm with your shoulder, a little smile on your lips. "Thank you for being so respectful about everything with him now by the way. The Jesse I knew in Blackwatch would have thrown a fit if he knew me and that old man were still together." 

"He's not as bad as I made him out to be, I guess. As long as he's treatin' you right, I don't really have much of a say." Jesse pulled a cigar from his belt hoop. With a disgusted noise, you stole it from him and quickly shoved it into your own pouch on your hip.

"Not before you meet the new recruits, Jesse. Come find me after you're done with them and you can light up, they don't need to smell that shit on you their first afternoon here." 

"Tsk." He rolled his eyes, pocketing a lighter. "Okay, but it'll be your fault when I get real cranky." 

"You'll live." You laughed and ignored his half threat as you walked with him through the base to the drop area.

Even from a distance, you could hear the commotion of people being greeted, of friendly agents offering to help new ones settle in. You were still smiling as you got closer and noticed of all people, Genji was standing and speaking with someone who'd just exited one of the driverless cars. Your smile continued, even as you joked with Jesse about having to share a room if there were too many people. Genji was hugging the man, it was a strangely awkward hug and not one you expected to see from the cyborg. Your smile started to fade as your eyes fell upon a familiar, yet completely changed face, to a man with a mostly shaved head and bun tied at the top hanging off the back loosely, to shiny earrings and a nose bar that distracted you only for a moment before it truly hit you who it was Genji was hugging and speaking to. 

Jesse stopped dead in his tracks, you assume realizing who it was as well. You snapped to look to him and saw the way his nostrils flared and his mustache lifted with rage. Genji turned just in time to see the anger bubbling over and Jesse tossing his cowboy hat to the ground. There were not many ways you could see this playing out well. Genji seemed to step in front of Hanzo, ready to protect him if Jesse rushed them as he lifted his faceplate and held out a hand in front of him.  

“Jesse-” Genji shouted as a warning, his face was frozen in worry, eyes darting between him and Hanzo.

He had an explanation for the appearance of his misguided brother, but Jesse wasn't going to allow him to speak. Instead, he broke out in a fast walk towards them, one that made your heart skip a few beats. You saw the way he cracked his knuckles against his thighs and curled fists at his side. You watched as his shoulders tensed up as he began to walk not with purpose but was sprinting right at them with the body language of a man about to go in for the final blow on a kill. You took off after him, not acting fast enough to catch him but hoping you could stop him before he inflicted too much damage. 

Jesse grabbed Genji's arm, taking it and pulling Genji towards him, away from Hanzo, then using his own bodyweight against him to flip him around and send Genji stumbling your way. Unable to move out of the way in time Genji came crashing into you, sending you off balance as Jesse grabbed the front of Hanzo's jacket and words started flying. The rush of Genji's metal arm elbowing into your stomach keeled you over for a moment as he tried to steady himself to turn back to the two men. In a blinding moment, you looked to Jesse who was bearing his teeth and in a flash, his mechanical fist made contact with Hanzo’s eye.

Hanzo tried to shove Jesse away as he yelled something in Japanese, Genji and you both scrambled to get Jesse off him as he wound up for another punch. Hanzo was buckled over, arms protecting his face as he fell backward to the ground. You shouted for him to stop just as Jesse grabbed at the bun in the back of Hanzo’s head, slamming him to the concrete with as much of his strength as he could manage. Genji was pulling at his armor, fighting Jesse away from his brother. An awful groan left Hanzo as you pulled Jesse with all your strength and tried to hold him back. Even restrained in your arms he tried to get kicks in, his spurs rolling and cutting into Hanzo’s skin at his arms. 

Agents had scattered around the scene, many frightened off by the fight, some staring in shock. You were a captain, you couldn't let him continue this even if you thought he deserved it. 

“Hey, cut it out-” You were screaming in his ear, digging your nails into his side as you inched him away. You could feel him reaching for his flashbangs, his knives, for anything that would help him beat Hanzo even controlled in your grip. Genji dropped to the floor to check Hanzo’s face, snarling back at Jesse who was shouting obscenities and ill wishes to the man on the ground. “He's not fighting back, fucking cut it out Jesse! If you don’t relax I’m going to knock you out myself!”

“He's an asshole and a murderer! The man _killed_ Genji!” He shoved you off him, eyes dark and forehead beading with sweat. He held up his arm, waving the prosthetic in your face. “Look at what he did to me! He doesn't deserve to be here, you should be joinin’ me!”

“Shut up.” You threatened as you twisted at his arms threatening to honestly break them, you roughly pulled him to the side and pushed yourself to your toes so you were growling in his ear. “You're an agent again, you can not beat the shit out of someone like this."

You slowly eased your grip on him, testing to see if he'd try to fight him again. Instead, Jesse shoved you off him, angrily grabbing his hat from the ground and pointing it down to Hanzo who was bleeding and shaken. 

"You got no right to be here." Jesse snarled, spitting out from the side of his mouth. "I'm not workin' with him, Genji." 

"Even after all these years, you are still too rash Jesse." Genji glared at him before sighing and clicking his faceplate back in place. "I am not asking you to forgive him or to be his friend. I asked him to join Overwatch as a step towards showing he is a changed man. I had hoped I would be able to prepare you for his arrival, but I was not sure if he was actually going to show up." 

Genji helped Hanzo to his feet, lifting him beneath his arms. He looked different, not just because he was bleeding obscenely from his nose, but he'd manage to change entirely from the last time you saw him. Something about the way he was styled, the way he was dressed and carried himself, he seemed more relaxed and more confident. He seemed to nervously avoid your eyes, a guilty gaze that couldn't meet yours. 

"You should have discussed this with us first, Genji." You sounded sourer than you intended, you were angry, but nowhere near Jesse's level. "He's a great shot, but loyalty is something we need desperately. Your brother has a track record of running." 

"We can talk about this later." Genji's words were short, clearly upset. "I am taking my brother to the medical wing to make sure Jesse did not do too much damage."

With that he shouldered past you, Hanzo leaning heavy against him on one side with a quickly swelling eye and a nose bleeding out from hitting the concrete. You stood with Jesse, silently eyeing the two as they limped away. Genji was asking a lot of both of you to be okay with bringing someone like Hanzo into Overwatch, he was asking more than he realized when you recalled Hanzo's reaction to witnessing you murder agents on a Talon base covered in snow. Jack was already on edge with Baptiste on base, you were sure Hanzo would be his line in the sand. 

With worried onlooking agents, you grabbed Jesse and led him far from judgmental eyes all the way to Ana's temporary office setup. With fingers pinching the bridge of your nose and more exasperated sighs than you could manage, you told her the situation as Jesse pouted with his hat low over his eyes and arms crossed tight at his chest. It felt like tattletaling, but it was necessary in order to maintain the very structure Jack set for the new version of Overwatch. You wouldn't have let it slide if it was anyone else, even though you hated to see Jesse get in trouble for assaulting another person, you knew you couldn't give him special treatment.

Ana took Jesse off duty, barring him from dealing with any of the new agents. The stress of everything was getting to her, even though she would never admit to it. The worst of it was watching Ana try to carry on her day to day tasks while the weight of her choices weighed her down. She kept a strong face, commanded those in ground combat as best she could, but in the privacy of the captain's offices, or late at night when she thought she was alone, the worry of running new agents while the isolation from her daughter being so close yet so far from her would break her down.  

The day you brought Jesse to her she already seemed on edge, her responses to you shorter and quieter than usual, eyes distracted with hologram pictures on her desk. After the disciplinary meeting Jesse stormed off and you were left to review some of the preliminary plans Jack had laid out for a myriad of situations Talon could be readying for in London. It was long past dinner, most of the lights were out, you heard Ana's voice cracking from her doorway as you were packing away blueprints in Jack’s meeting room converted office just a few doors down from hers. 

“She refuses to speak with me.” 

“Fareeha will come around, you must be patient with her.” Reinhardt spoke to her softly, you heard an office chair creak as someone sat heavy in it. 

“I don’t believe any amount of waiting will fix this, Reinhardt. She knows well enough that I never wanted this kind of life for her, she’s known that I have been alive for this long and I have told her that she is causing me pain by ignoring me, and yet-” 

“I can talk to her, if you like?” 

There was shifting in an uncomfortable silence. You quietly folded away papers and tucked them in Jack's office drawer before scribbling a note to him with a little reminder that you loved him and wished you could be there with him more during the workday. Still Ana's office remained quiet, you weren't sure if they were whispering now from hearing you moving around or if they were both that deep in thought.  

“That’s very kind, but it will likely just make it worse.” Ana sighed. “She is just as stubborn as me. I am glad she is still speaking to you, thank you for being a great comfort to her while I could not be.”

“Of course.” His voice was distant.  

As quietly as you could you tiptoed through the doors and towards the exit, not wanting to interrupt either of them. Just before leaving, you stole a glance towards them, spying Ana standing between Reinhardt’s knees as she ran fingers through his now silver hair. Reinhardt had a large hand resting at the small of her back and an expression twisted with sorrow. Your heart ached just looking at them, Reinhardt still watched her with the same longing he had the time you spent in his home. They'd both grown so much older, lived lives that should have torn them apart. He was still being gentle with her, careful from years of separation and unknowns.   

She looked so irreparably sad, the worry lines on her face seemed deeper than ever before as she frowned not trying to put on a mask of fake happiness for him. You wanted to burst through the doors and try to find a way to fix this, you wanted Ana to have the happiness and love you’d found for yourself too, but this wasn’t your place. It took a lot of humility to realize that being a captain meant you had to deal with problems that presented themselves to you, but not every problem was your problem. Fareeha avoided eye contact with you as well, the only time you even heard her speak was to respond to orders from Jack or passing hellos to Jesse. 

In the quiet of stone sided halls you made your way back to your room where Jack was likely waiting with his leather jacket hung up next to the door and combat boots perfect lined next to each other. You walked past the specialized combat residential hall, their common area was buzzing with some sort of birthday party. The commissary was filled with agents scarfing down dinner, the research wing still loud with productivity. On a whim, you decided to visit Winston before heading in for the night to see if he'd been able to get a handle on his agents. 

Just past the research wing doors you were met with the manic laughing of one of the newer agents, one that made you incredibly uneasy- James, who introduced himself to you with a mocking laugh as he smacked the belly of a man who consistently wore a medical mask to hide his face. With a closely shaved head and oversized obviously fake glasses he clearly looked like he was trying to hide something. You chewed your thoughts as you walked up the stairs, Winston was working away in the top section of his lab, a sheet of plastic taped over the massive hole in glass from a fight with Reaper not long ago. You knocked on his wall with your knuckles and offered a meek smile as he looked up from his work.     

"Your lab's a little unruly lately Winston." You teased as the sounds of hammering echoed down open halls downstairs. 

"It's... been an adjustment with all the personalities, that's for sure." He faked a laugh but somewhere far in the lab you could hear Torbjörn shouting something that almost sounded like it could have been Swedish curses, closely followed with Brigette's voice telling him to watch his language and the sound of a power saw. "We're figuring it out." 

"If you say so." You held back your smile as you rolled your shoulders over the wall and walked into his office set up to look out the window overlooking the communications tower. Somewhere on the higher floors of that tower you had agents repairing old equipment that hadn't been serviced at all in the years Overwatch was dead. "I still can't believe he attacked you like that. I mean, I know you and Gabe were never best friends or anything, but to come after you when you were all alone armed with Talon guards? That must have been really scary. I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you. I've just been so fixated on thinking I can bring him back home that I lost sight of the importance of having friends."

"Trust me, I know what it feels like to want to do anything to bring someone back." Winston sighed as he sat heavy behind his computer, his eyes fell to a picture of the scientist he grew up with. He sniffed and adjusted the shiny new glasses on his face, moving to pull up something on the screen in front of him. "I've been working on the modifications to Lena's old chamber, if you can manage to bring him here I think I've found a way to fit his specifications- though we have no way of testing it until he's in there. I can't make any promises that it will hold him, or that we can help him in any way. Are you sure you want to bring him here?" 

"I don't know what else to do." You turned to Winston, tapping your nail against your lips. "I'm terrified Ja-76 will kill him on sight. If he doesn't, he wants Reaper to pay for his crimes but I really don't think there's any place that could contain him. Not even Helix is prepared to apprehend someone that can escape through the smallest cracks in doors. I've seen what he's capable of, Winston. If he doesn't get away, I'm hoping I can convince him to come back with us but I know I have to prepare myself for the reality that he may be coming home in a body bag." 

"Whatever happens, you know you always have a family here."

The seriousness of his words was interpreted by the clattering of metal flying across the lab and sharp laughter. Winston's face fell, eyes closing in annoyance and you snatched one of his screens from him.

"God that James guy is obnoxious. Who the hell does that idiot think he is? There's something so off about him-" You mumbled to yourself as you started pulling up agent files. Winston's eyes snapped open in a flash of panic, his long arms reaching to grab the screen from you as he realized what you were doing. Catching onto his fear you jumped away from his reach and shot him a dirty look. "Winston, are you _hiding_ something?"   

You stared at the screen, brows down as you hurried to type through agent files. He was stuttering out something about files being corrupt as you jumped around the lab away from him and scrolled through profile after profile. As soon as you found "James" you sucked in on your teeth, angrily looking down at the very clearly fake profile and painfully edited picture.    

“Winston. What is this?" You glared at him, roughly scrolling to the next profile with the same situation. "You do know we should be doing background checks on everyone...?"  

“We only required checks on agents who would be handling weapons in the field.” He looked to you, adjusting his glasses higher on his face as you turned to stare at him with the darkest expression you could manage. You'd never seen him act this nervous, he was twirling his toes around each other as he tried (and failed) to act casual. “Why, is something wrong?” 

"They look familiar. Who are they, Winston?" You never thought you would, but so help you if it came down to it you weren't scared to beat up a literal gorilla to get answers. 

"They've just been in a bit of trouble, minor stuff, oh you know like..." His voice faded off, worry setting in his dark eyes. "Really, their crimes don't matter when you know how valuable they are to the team!" 

"Give. Me. Their. Names." You were gripping the screen so hard you thought you might just shatter it. "We have a duty of keeping people safe, you can't just bring in anyone off the street who knows how to build bots! We have to know who's working for us!" 

"You won't recognize their real names-" He gulped ran large hands over his face before mumbling out their cover names. "Globally they go by Junkrat and Roadhog-"

You were searching for them faster than he could explain. Immediately it clicked, the wanted posters you'd seen hung up in cities all across the world with huge rewards, their mugshots hid behind graffiti in omnic riddled streets- you were absolutely fucking floored that Winston would ever knowingly have allowed someone like this to be part of his team. 

“Winston. This could be a major disaster, are you fucking kidding me?” You flipped the screen around to him showing off the laundry list of crimes attached to the mugshot of ‘James’. There was something just so unnervingly uneasy about his eyes, maybe it was the wide whites with beady pupils or the distant look that clearly had seen destruction beyond anything you could imagine, but he just looked so… creepy. Since joining Overwatch he'd shaved off all his singed hair and hid his face behind glasses, cleaned up to a point where it would be more than a few double takes to realize he was the same person.  

“I know what you're thinking, but he’s  _brilliant-_ ” 

“Winston-” 

“He’s been instrumental in the creation of some of the new weapons-”

“ _Winston_. You knew he was wanted, didn’t you?! Are you insane? Look at this, he’s wanted for arson, grand larceny, assault with caustic chemicals, fraud, unlawful demolition, trespassing on government property, theft of a war weapon. Don’t even get me started on that bodyguard of his, he’s a murderer Winston! This list goes on and on, do you realize how much trouble you could be in by letting them work with us?!” As the words left your mouth you found there was a pang of guilt. If only people really knew what you were capable of, it was a clearcut case of the kettle calling the pot black. 

“I know it looks bad.” Winston was trying to quiet you, his eyes darting around the lab before he held your arms and pulled you close. “He’s insane, he’s dangerous, you’re right that he shouldn’t be here. He’s not just wanted by governments, but he’s being chased by bounty hunters and gangs all over the world because he found something very important at one of the omnium facilities that decimated Australia.” 

“There is _nothing_ he could have found that means Overwatch should be protecting someone like him. You have absolutely lost your mind after being alone all this time. I’m sorry, I have to take this to 76. James-" You squinted, searching for his real name in the documents. "Jamison- he can’t be here. It’s too big of a liability.” 

“I'm sorry captain, but I will not budge on this. He’s safest here. The world is safest with him here. You'll understand if you ask him what he knows.” Winston no longer looked to you with pleading eyes. Slowly his confidence against you grew to stand tall. “Talk to him before you make any decisions, make sure you’re...alone.” 

His eyes darted to his computer where Athena’s icon glowed back at you. Now  _t_ _hat_ piqued your interest. Winston had never acted nervous about his AI, he’d never shown an aversion to omnics or advancing technology, but something in his hesitation to say any more about it put you off running straight to Jack’s office. You looked between him and the computer, an uneasy buzzing beginning just beneath your skin. He reached out with a waiting hand for you to plan the screen back, you landed it carefully in your palm before watching him push out a shaking breath and practically melt into his seat.

"I'll talk to him, but if I don't think we can trust him I have to turn him in. You understand that I can not put people's lives at risk for just this one man?" 

"Keep those words in mind when you speak to him." Winston touched his keyboard, hesitating to type something. "He's in the third lab down the hall on the lower floor, although I'm sure you will find him just by the racket."  

You stared at him, at the way he held his shoulders tight to him as you turned to leave. Guilt was gnawing away at you. You should have been there, from the beginning. If you'd been there from day one then you would already know the situation with every agent, who they were, where they came from, maybe you'd even already have a plan to get Gabe back. Instead, you were pressing a fist to your stomach as you made your way through stone halls down towards the lab with the open door and the manic laughing. 

Dealing with people in this way was something new, something you wish you had Jack at your side for. He kept such a level head with everything. He made decisions that were for the good of everyone, not just based on gut feelings. Like Hanzo, after you ran to him with your concerns he sat you down and went over the importance of keeping the peace with Genji and allowing Hanzo to stay with the team. He was a greater asset to Overwatch than against Overwatch, he was dangerous but he could be wrangled in if he needed to be. He asked you to look at him staying through the eyes of a captain, not through the eyes of someone with a vendetta. 

This followed you as you approached the lab doors. Before you made yourself known you looked in at the strange sight. Jamison was tinkering away at a work station, muttering to himself dressed in far oversized old Overwatch uniforms. Most people wore their own clothes, but if you had to guess, you'd say based on the reports you saw he likely didn't have much to wear. From the side, you could see patches of his eyebrows missing from something recently exploding back in his face. Dirt, or soot, or who knows what, caked beneath his fingernails and stuck in the rivets of his mechanical hand. He tore off the sleeves to the old uniform instead of cutting them or asking for a long sleeve jumpsuit and any skin you could see exposed looked particularly sunburnt.

His partner in crime had his head back, medical mask lifted as he held some sort of bizarre contraption to his face and breathed in what almost looked like some type of gas. 

On the other end of the room was a perfectly cleaned station, decorated with personal pictures of a team dressed in winter coats and a row of mugs on a shelf above the desk. The trunk pushed against the wall on that side of the room read 'Mei-Ling Zhou' in tiny print with her name in Chinese just beneath it. You cringed at the thought of a girl who'd lived through so much tragedy sharing a workspace with the mind of a maniac. 

Even more worrying than that, in place of clothes or magazines, extra blankets or personal items around his station, the trunk pushed against the wall with a crudely written 'JAMES' on it was filled with weapons you guessed Winston was turning a blind eye to having in the lab- hand made grenades, a tire painted and stuck with spikes, what looked like a bear trap. This man was absolutely insane and suddenly it was hitting you just how crazy it was to be staring at them. 

Your movement as you stepped in caught his eye, as Jamison turned to greet you. 

“G’day!” He immediately broke out into an unsettling toothy smile, his eyes darted all around the hall behind you before landing to meet yours as he opened his mouth to say something but didn’t make any noise for an uncomfortable few moments. “You’re that little hacker I’ve heard so much about, aye? Well, c’mon in, me and the big fella here we’re just havin’ a nice night in testin' out some a my new weapons.” 

Roadhog, whose real name you saw in the reports was Mako Rutledge, quickly moved to cover his mouth again and hide whatever it was he was inhaling at his side. Cold eyes stared at you above the medical mask and as you got closer you could see nasty scars creeping around the edges of his skin beneath it. You stared them as you awkwardly shuffled in and stood in the center of the room. Jamison was smiling still, remaining in his signature hunched over stance with blown out eyes darting about behind the large fake glasses. As he waited for your response he closed in on you, looming closer and closer with that creepy smile and pupils that were far too small. 

An overwhelming feeling hit you that _you shouldn't be there_. 

“Sorry, I think I’ve made a mistake-” You gasped out as you turned back towards the hall with the intent of sprinting as far and as fast as you could from him. 

Jamison grabbed the phone in your back pocket then chucked it over your head, out the door, and down the hall before he wrapped his hand at your arm.

“Where ya goin’?" When he spoke he had this laugh to his voice. "Surely you came down here for a reason? Right, captain?" 

"Uh-" You sucked in a breath as his bodyguard stood, the world seemed to shift as he towered over each of you. You couldn't even explain it, why he was freaking you out so much, but there was something about him that just reminded you of every terrible person you'd ever met. You needed to think, needed to come up with some sort of valid excuse for interrupting them after work hours. "Just, uh, wanted to introduce myself?"  

"Aw. An' here I was thinkin' you’d want to know all about what I found at the omnium.” He giggled and looked to Mako, body almost falling backward in glee. "How boring. That big monkey said she'd be the one interested in it, right?"  

Mako grunted down at him, his eyes looking you over with the most judgment you'd ever felt in your life. You snarled at him, trying to pry away from Jamison's weirdly strong grip. 

“Why would you assume that’s what I came here about?” 

He got close to your face, too close for comfort and you were craning your neck trying to avoid his nose from touching yours. There was something glittering in his eyes, something knowing and secretive. Deep in your gut you could already feel whatever he knew was something big, something that people were willing to follow him across the globe for, and this man was just insane enough to know he could get away with it. 

"I've heard some rumors about what you can do-" His voice was sing-songy. 

"I know who you are. Who both of you are." You blurted out, fingers spread as you pushed them against his bony chest to distance yourself from him. "So... Whatever you think you have better be good, otherwise I'm turning you over to the authorities."  

"Oh, this'll be fun." He finally released your arm and stepped away from you and turned to the large bodyguard standing at attention. "Give us the room would ya?" 

Mako turned, leaving and slamming the heavy metal door behind him. As he left, Jamison pulled the chair from Zhou's station, wheeling it to the center of the room, setting his own stage and motioning rapidly for you to take a seat to listen to his long-winded speech. With nerves fraying every second, you sat with your hands clasped tightly in your lap and your eyes darting to the door knowing your phone, your lifeline, was laying far out of range down an empty hall.   

“Well see, I was just havin’ a good time right? It was the middle of the night, and really I was just searchin' for a lovely little place to rest. Now that omnium factory was known to be particularly radioactive so not many scavengers went around that one. While I was there, thought I’d search the place for scrap or have a drink with the flies maybe, wouldn’t you know it I come across a little piece a the factory that was still runnin' with power and everythin'. Now here's where it gets tricky, I look around, there's these bots all over the ground, they'd been gone for a while. So I start scrapin' 'em but as I'm rippin' 'em apart, my eye catches on this screen that's just relaying some random numbers and letters over an' over an' over again."

"A code?" You leaned forward in your seat, weirdly engrossed in his story and the facial expressions he made with his big bushy brows. 

"A very important code." He chuckled as he learned with hands on his knees and came closer to your face again. He pointed with a finger hit the side of his head hard. "See I got it all up here, right? Memorized all a it then unplugged the sucker and left with my loot. Few days later I take it to this big bot brawl up in the top end, real fun place, I waltz right in and have one a the little techies try that code out. Poor fella, he shoulda told me he was part omnic, may he rest in pieces. You reckon what that little code in my mind does?" 

"It-"

"It takes out every omnic it can reach! Now he activated it when we were in the middle of nowhere, didn't affect the humans 'course. You shoulda seen it though, all these bots just dropped to the ground, never seen anythin' like it before. After that I got a bit of a blabbermouth, spouted that off to just about anyone I could, that's when bounty hunters and them started coming after me, right that'd be." 

You stared at him in stunned silence. The chances of him actually memorizing a code that knocked out an entire zone of omnics in one go seemed not just stupid, but outright impossible. He was smiling back at you in the silence, waiting patiently for your response as he turned his hands over in front of him almost as a show of 'ta-da, don't you like it?!' that you refused to acknowledge.       

What the hell were you supposed to say to that? He could very well be the only person in the world who knows how to put out a massive amount of omnics at once, but he doesn't have the skill required to code it. He was telling you because he thought you'd be on his level, he expected you to be excited, to join him dancing and singing about how happy you were to have the knowledge to destroy hundreds, if not thousands, of lives at once. 

You weren't anywhere near as happy as he thought you would be, you watched his face fall as he stared into your horrified eyes.  

“I don't believe any of that.” You seethed out at him, roughly pushing the chair out beneath you to head to the door. 

Before you pushed past him you looked over your shoulder to an insane man who had the look of a hurt child written across his face. You scooped your phone from the ground, now with a shattered screen from him throwing it to the hall and ran past Mako waiting just outside the door, continuing to run all the way through the stone hallways until you were in the residential hall standing outside your room gasping in disbelief.  

He's crazy.

He's fucking crazy.

He's crazy, right?

You couldn't shake this feeling, the warning Winston left you with to keep your own words in mind. If he wasn't with Overwatch, if he was allowed to go to the authorities or to be hunted across the earth with that knowledge- the repercussions of it seemed earth shattering. You pressed your forehead to the door, thoughts catching up with your feet. You needed to make a decision: tell Jack about the wanted criminals creating bombs in the research lab, or hide their knowledge and allow Overwatch to protect them and, essentially, the world from the chaos of releasing a mad man with what would be a plague for omnics. 

With a heavy breath you entered in the code and turned the shiny metal handle. Jack was sitting on the edge of the bed, old sweatpants on and his white hair wet from a fresh shower. 

"Hey sweetheart, how was your day?" He smiled at you, reaching out a hand for you to join him so he could steal the kiss he'd been longing for since morning. 

"It was..." You trailed off as his hands wandered to your hips, gently pulling the tucked in shirt from your combat pants. You mulled over your options, over through the mental gymnastics you did throughout the day to keep yourself sane and an unsettling encounter with the Australian. Was the world really ready to deal with the repercussions of him blabbing the code to anyone who would listen? There were a fair amount of countries that would pay top dollar to get their hands on anything that would permanently put an end to omnic presence in their area. "Fairly normal, I guess. I'm happy to finally be back with you." 

"Hmm." He squinted his eyes at you, a small smirk on his lips as he leaned forward to kiss at old scars covering your hip. "I know we said no work talk in the bedroom, but do you need to talk about something?" 

You brought your cuticles to your lips, nervously tapping your nail to your teeth as you considered spilling everything to him. His large hands slid all over your body, slowing to a standstill on the sides of your thigh as he looked to you with concern when you took too long to answer. 

"Not yet." You smiled down at him. "I'm going to give it a few days, think things over and look at from a practical standpoint before I make any decisions." 

"Well, now." He brought your hand to his lips, kissing at your knuckles. "Spoken like a true captain."  

* * *

Two weeks until London.

Hanzo’s face was looking better, considering Jesse had given him a black eye and a bloody nose. He was lucky he hadn't broke Hanzo's nose, otherwise Ana would have forced him into cleaning duties with his own toothbrush for the rest of his time in Overwatch. You watched Hanzo from across the commissary as Jesse complained about feeling like he had nothing to do now that he was technically under suspension. Hanzo had this sour look on his face, the piercing at the bridge of his nose was still missing, face just a little too swollen to allow for it to be put back in. The bruising around his eye was fading to a sickly green and yellow, his hair was down falling to the side in an attempt to cover up the injury from distant stares. He was touching at the bruise and wincing at the pain. 

You needed to try to mend this, but you also needed answers. The closer you got the quicker you realized he hadn’t touched any of his food, instead, he was nursing a drink that reeked of fermented rice.   

“Hey.” You tried to plaster on a fake smile but your face strained with the awkward movement. With one finger out you pointed to the empty seats around him. “Do you mind if we sit with you?”  

“Will you be attempting to assault me again?” He glared at Jesse, flaring his nostrils and worsening the red bruising on his cheeks.  

“I’m here to make sure everyone plays nice.” No longer waiting for his permission you sat across from him meeting the end of your tray with his before examining the swelling at his nose. Hanzo clicked his tongue in disapproval and avoided your eyes, turning his head to the side trying to force his hair to fall in front of his face.  

“I trust _him_ more than you to pretend to be nice.” His lips raised in a snarl. “At least I can tell exactly who he is- a man with a bad attitude and no fashion sense. You are a demon. A wolf in sheep's clothing.”

“Now that’s a little harsh, doncha think?” Jesse hit his knuckles against the edge of the table, trying to make his point. 

“Have you not seen what she can do?” Hanzo glared at him, focusing on him intently. Your throat felt dry even as you brought water to sip, Hanzo was one of the few people on base who knew what you were at your worst. Even your family, Jesse and Genji, they knew you had a mean streak in you, but they could never imagine just how murderous it was. “There is an evil living inside of her.” 

“I think you’re hittin’ the sauce just a little too hard tonight my friend.” Jesse looked to you for help, the lingering sarcasm of calling Hanzo his friend straining his lips as he forked in mashed potatoes. 

“I am not your friend.” Hanzo mumbled into his drink container. “Nor are you hers if you have not seen who she truly is.”     

You tapped your fork against your food. In a way, he was right. With Jesse around you’d managed to avoid losing your temper, up to that point you were keeping emotions in check and not allowing yourself to slip into the sick feeling of a monster that you felt curled in your stomach. He hadn’t seen what you were capable of, he only heard whispers of the woman in the broken mirrored mask who could kill without thinking, he’d never seen the black endless eyes Gabe gave you. Jesse's fist was curling just a little too hard around his fork, you grabbed gently at his wrist, offering him a glance of eyes that asked him to take it down a couple of notches before another fight broke out. 

"Where's that brother of yours?" Jesse asked in a tight voice, forcing himself not to fight another battle. 

"I am not his keeper." Hanzo set his container down hard on the table, pushing his food out of the way. "I do not have time for such foolish questions-"

"Cut it out." You barked out, drawing his undivided attention to you as you seethed from his comments about your state. "Seriously Hanzo, enough. I'm not going to put up with your dismissive woe-is-me attitude. If you don't want to be here, then don't fucking be here. If you don't think you can just talk to us like regular human beings then you need to leave right now. Captain Amari doesn't need your stupid attitude either, she's got damn well enough on her plate and if you don't shape up then I will show you what I can _actually_ do. You didn't see anything outside of that Talon base compared to what you have coming if you continue to be a little bitch about being here." 

That certainly shut him up.  

You forked food into your mouth as you glared at Hanzo, daring him to say something to piss you off further. His eyes dropped to his tray where he finally pushed around his own food and lifted it, turning to hide his face from you as he ate. Jesse had this stupid smug look on his face, his lower lip bit beneath his teeth trying not to giggle watching Hanzo curl in on himself like a dog with a tail between its legs. Now that you had his attention, you pointed your fork in Hanzo's direction and asked what was really on your mind.

"So, do you want to tell me why you disappeared? I promise I'm not mad. I just want to know why you dropped off the face of the earth after you found him and never told me." 

"I was-" His voice wavered, shoulders dropped forward as he leaned heavily against the table. "It was not that I was afraid of you, or a coward. I- do you know about what happened, when I found him? The mine collapsing?" 

"Jesse may have mentioned it." You looked to Jesse who was staring down at his mechanical arm, fingers slowly curling and uncurling from a fist. 

"As I was trapped there I realized my line of work was no longer worth the suffering. I was chasing after people for reasons I did not know. I wasn't the assassin my family wanted me to be but I was still committed to a life of crime and for a moment I could finally see where that was leading me- to my own death. The cave in crushed my legs, I do not know how long I was pinned there but I know I lost consciousness. When I came to days later I was in a hospital I did not recognize, they were able to save the majority of my legs, the bones now have heavy structural support but I still have them." He sighed as he stared down at his capped bottle, spinning it slowly between his fingers next to his bearly touched dinner before he lifted his eyes to look at Jesse. "Unlike you, with your arm. I acted out of anger as you were getting away. I understand now I should not have shot an arrow at you.” 

“ _An_ arrow? It was every damn arrow you had-” 

You hit Jesse in the chest with the back of your hand, shooting him a look that told him to shut up and just listen. 

“You are correct. That was wrong of me.” Hanzo seemed to be chewing on the inside of his cheek as he pressed fingertips to the bruise circling his eye. He pushed out a shaking breath and looked to you. “It was cowardly of me to hide from you after, but I attempted to give up the mercenary life. For some time I was working odd jobs, anything I could to distance myself from my previous life. It took a long time for me to come to terms with the fact that I was… that I am still learning to be a better man, to be someone deserving of Genji’s forgiveness. I understand I have no right to ask either of you, but he speaks so highly of you both, you are almost more family to him than I to him. I would be very appreciative of your patience and help to better myself.”  

"You're full of shit." Jesse growled next to you. "People like you never change, no matter how many chances they're given." 

Hanzo bit his tongue and stared down at his drink in silence. His words stung you in a way you didn't expect. You searched Hanzo's face, eyes falling over every feature from his dejected eyes, to his facial hair that needed to be trimmed but couldn't because his face was still swollen from being beaten into the concrete. Something about it hurt your heart with a deep twist in the center, you wondered if he would say the same thing to Gabe if he was the one sitting across the table asking for patience. Your concepts of death and forgiveness, of pain and friendship, everything was warped already fucked up beyond anything normal.

"You have a lot of work ahead of you, Hanzo." You wrapped your fingers around Jesse's hand, holding it maybe just a little harder than you needed to. "If you say you want to be a better person, I believe you. If Genji wants you here, then I won't force you to leave. Jesse, you don't have to force yourself to be nice to him after what he did to you, but you do need to be civil. People can change." 

You spoke to Hanzo, but you were staring in Jesse's eyes. Jack changed. You changed. None of you were the same person you were when you first joined Blackwatch. Your eyes were pleading with him, Hanzo can change-  _Gabe_ can change. Jesse pushed out a long breath from his nose, face scrunching together wanting to fight back against that but from just the look on his face you could see he understood exactly what you meant. He grunted out an agreement, mumbling beneath his breath about you being too soft for your own good. You dug nails into the side of his hand and attempted a genuine smile at Hanzo. 

"We're all on the same team. I need a promise, from both of you, that you can at least work together." They each nodded their heads at you, Hanzo sharper than Jesse but at least they acknowledged you. "Alright, and let me be clear, if I find out from Ana that either of you give her trouble because you're not getting along then I will handcuff you together indefinitely and force you to work your shit out. We're a team, so act like it."

The remainder of dinner was eating in awkward silence as you stewed in your 'successful' talk with Hanzo. He left with a majority of his food untouched, Jesse scarfing down every last bit. Once he was ready, you left side by side with Jesse, wandering off down the stone halls to a usual quiet spot out past the research center far from anyone working where Jesse could smoke his cigar without stinking up a whole residential floor. Even on the walk, you could feel his annoyance radiating from him, still amped up from dealing with Hanzo. He was pulling his cigar out long before you were even near the exit, suffering in his own silence through the halls past open common areas, chewing on the end of the cigar in his mouth as you were turning away from the rows of cramped crew quarters, down through the halls carved into the side of the mountain outfitted with bright white lights until you were at the research wing. Through their halls you walked by the rooms filled with exhausted medical assistants, shouldering your way until you were walking through the research wing. 

Jamison and Zhou appeared to be in a heated argument once again, you could hear them long before you passed by their lab door. You held your phone close to your body, fingertips rubbing over the shattered screen as you got closer and their conversation turned from indistinct arguing to legible words. Whatever it was they were disagreeing over, it had something about him speaking in Chinese to her- she sounded almost on the verge of tears as you quietly passed by their lab doors and made distant uneasy eye contact with Jamison. He stopped mid-sentence, words hanging out of his mouth to stare at you with question as you grabbed Jesse's wrist and yanked him down the hall quickening your pace. You fast walked through the research halls, out of Winston’s lab and into the open field with communications towers. 

Most of the lights were off, at night the communications crew bunked with those who manned the flight crew. You counted your lucky stars that Winston was able to get you a room to share with Jack, otherwise you would have been stuck in their underground shared room beneath the flight deck lined wall to wall with bunk beds and shared trunks. You looked over your shoulder to the closing lab doors behind you, flashing your eyes to Jesse who was lighting his cigar the moment you stepped outside. You made your way straight ahead, up a flight of stairs and around a corner before you dropped yourself down on the corner of the building overlooking one of the best views on base- the closest you could get to sitting on a rocky shore overlooking the ocean, towards a not too distant lighthouse that would sometimes shine in your eyes and perfect view for the cargo ship route. 

"What's with the look that lab rat gave you?" Jesse sighed, finally taking a breath after a long drag. 

"It's a long story." You buried your face in your hands, falling backward to lay on the chilled metal roof. The cloud of Jesse's cigar hung in the air above you, obscuring otherwise bright stars high in the sky. "Listen, about Hanzo-" 

"You don't have to lecture me more. I heard ya. I'll play nice." His voice was grumbling as he looked down to his mechanical arm. Puffs of smoke pushed from his cheeks before soft eyes in the dark fell to yours. "How do you do it, sunshine? Forgive people the way you do?"

"Forgive, but don't forget." Your body shifted, placing your hands behind your head as you connected stars with your eyes. "I spent too much time wanting nothing but revenge and bottling anger against someone who hurt me, and when I allowed myself to feel something other than pure hate I was finally able to move on from it. But Jesse, you don't _have_ to forgive anyone. It's up to you to forgive Hanzo, or to forgive Gabe."

"Sure." His voice was distant as he spoke through the cigar, head turning to the side hidden beneath the dark shadows of a cowboy hat he definitely didn't need in that moment. His eyes were no longer on his arm, instead he was gripping into his torn shawl. "You saw the way he fought me, right? Wasn't tryin' to hit me or anythin'. As gone as he is... you're right. There's somethin' still there. Reyes is still in there somewhere."

You laid there processing his words, your long breaths blowing his cigar smoke higher and higher into the air. You'd felt so alone in thinking that for so long that it was washing over you to hear another person truly admit it. 

"He always been nicer to you, but I think it's goin' to take more than just you to make him come back. We gotta get everyone to understand that he's not a lost cause. If he sees how much we all still care for him then maybe... I don't know, I feel like I'm talkin' crazy." Jesse turned his head, looking over his shoulder to the noise of the lab doors opening to the outside. "We just gotta work somthin' out-"

"Shh, do you hear that?" You sat up, putting a finger to the side of his mouth pushing against his cigar. Somewhere near was the echoing telltale sound of hobbling steps.

"Oi!" A voice yelled from around the corner. "Hacker lady- er? Sorry, I can't right remember your name, you out here?" 

"What the fuck?" You whispered to yourself as you turned to peer over the edge of the building. Even though the dim base lighting you caught eyes with Jamison who broke out into a toothy smile and hopped his way towards you. "What could you possibly need right now?!" You called out to him, your voice cracking at the end. 

He huffed and puffed up the stairs, something of a chuckle still echoing in his throat until he was standing in front of you with hands on his hips and elbows jutting out in front of him. He stared at you with those large unsettling eyes that seemed like they were expecting you to explain to what he was doing there. Jesse froze, no longer taking in drags of his cigar instead it hung loosely between his teeth and his brows arched high on his forehead waiting for either of you to say something.  

"Well?" Jamison smiled at you. 

"Well... what?" 

"Whew, it reeks up here! So you're the one always smokin' an' stinkin' up the place! Quite the smell comin' off ya?" He was still smiling, his offputting voice made Jesse practically choke on his own smoke and started out in a coughing fit. "Well, make some room!" 

Before you could even protest he was forcing his way to your side, making room for himself as he settled down with an exasperated sigh and you looked to Jesse wordlessly with wide eyes silently screaming for help. He shook his head waving his hand in front of him wanting absolutely nothing to do with whatever weird presence Jamison brought to the conversation. Jesse stood, annoyed at the new obnoxious voice and mumbled something about smoking in peace before wandering off just far enough away that you could see his form in the dark and the red glowing embers of the end on his cigar. 

Jamison gritted his teeth in a tight apologetic smile, a lame apology for driving Jesse away.    

"James, we weren't exactly looking for any... company." You tried to put it gently, watching his reaction falling as he searched the horizon of dark water meeting the starry sky. 

"I just wanted to know if you're turnin' me in. Need to know if my days are numbered an' all that, you know?" For once that creepy smile seemed to soften to something genuine, nervous almost. "Bein' fully honest with ya this is the first permanent place we've had in a good while and I was finally gettin' comfortable. Apart from the fightin' with my favorite girly in the lab, 'course." 

You reeled back, shaking your head from the confusion of him referring to the woman he'd been arguing with as his 'favorite girl'. There were too many things to focus in on what he'd just said, something about the way he spoke always felt like it was pulling you in a million different directions. With squinting eyes and a slowly focusing mind, you hunched over in your lap resting elbows on the tops of your thighs before directing all your attention to him. 

"Okay, whatever you think is happening between you and Zhou I can guarantee you is not happening, but I am not getting into that with you right now." Pinching the bridge of your nose you looked to him with unintentionally harsh judgemental eyes. "Listen, I'm not going to turn you in so don't worry about it. Just follow orders and try not to blow anyone up, that's all I ask. If you can keep under the radar and listen to Winston's instructions then you have nothing to worry about. There are some things I just can not focus on right now and what you told me is one of those things so please just stop telling everyone what you know. People will brush you off because they think you're insane, but if they realize it's true that's only going to get you into more trouble." 

"People think I'm... insane?"

Oh. He had this look on his face, one that told you he'd never heard those words before. It was a disjected lost look that you hadn't expected from him, almost like he was searching his own mind for where he could have said something or done something that came off as less than normal. You stammered out 'uhhs' trying so hard to save yourself but there was no defending it. 

"Maybe back off of Zhou for a start?" You offered but as the words left you there was an obvious hurt in his eyes and his chest seemed to collapse on itself. "N-not that she thinks your insane, she's never said that to me, I just think maybe you'd have more friends if you came off less aggressive? I mean, I should know, I used to be really mean to people for a long time-" 

"I thought me an' Roadie were fittin' just right." The wavering lip and the glossy eyes snapped to a clearly uncomfortable forced smile as he straightened out his back. Whatever he was reflecting on he seemed to shake off as quickly as it hit him. "Well, I mean it's probably all them chemicals from the radiation back home, makes us a lil' different. Thanks for not turnin' me in, you're a real one mate. You let me know if you ever need any bombs, 'cause I'll make you a bitch of a bomb." 

"Yeah... thanks, I appreciate it." You didn't know whether to laugh or feel bad.   

Jamison fell back, looking up to the sky as you had been before and you slowly lowered yourself next to him after looking to the distance to watch Jesse blow a long cloud of smoke. Maybe he was crazy, but you seemed to attract the friendship of people who didn't quite fit a normal mode. You were pseudo married to a dead man, trying to bring a smoke monster home, best friends with a man who dressed like a cowboy and hadn't stepped foot on a farm in decades, you spoke to a gorilla smarter than half the people you knew on a daily basis- your perspective of who was insane and who was not seemed like it was warping with every breath Jamison took. 

That night, after dealing with Jamison, after saying goodnight to Jesse and hugging his sickening smelling body close, you crawled into bed next to Jack to cover his chest and neck with as many kisses as you could manage hoping not to wake him. Even deep in sleep, he smiled as your lips covered him, his snores lasting through your lips landing on every inch of him they could find. Dreaming away, he turned on his side, his body knowing you were next to him in the bed allowing you to hug his body against yours and hold him in your arms until morning. 

* * *

One week until London.    

Behind a locked meeting room door Jack removed his jacket and his mask to look onto the faces of those he trusted most. You sat to his left, Ana across from you and Angela next to her. Reinhardt on one end of the table, Winston on the other. As you looked around, everyone had a familiar look on their face, a small smile at seeing their commander in action again. This was where he was supposed to be, this is what he was supposed to be doing. As he spoke you caught your smile and glanced down at a screen in front of you, staring at the file open to Reaper’s information and a picture of his white mask staring back at you. A sense of surface guilt washed over you, a feeling that Gabe would be so incredibly hurt at the thought of so many people he knew sitting in a boardroom together all planning ways to take him down.

A shift in your stomach made you chew the corner of your lip- this is right where Jack was supposed to be, but you almost felt like an imposter there. Always in tune with you, he patted your shoulder gently and cleared his throat as he dialed on a large speakerphone sitting in the middle of the table.   

“Lena you’re on, what’s the situation over there?” 

“Not great, sir.” Something about the way she spoke pulled at your heart, probably to do with the fact that she wasn’t just there on a mission. She was trying to protect her home. “We’ve been able to confirm Doomfist has smuggled massive weapons into the city, omnics in the Underground beneath Kings Row are currently holding them in exchange for Talon’s protection. From what we've been able to uncover these omnics are planning a massive attack that will take out most of the human population in the city, their goal is to eradicate human life and liberate Kings Row to be a completely omnic district.”

"If Talon is involved with providing them anything, we have to take extra precautions. Were you able to find out what kind of weapons they've supplied?” Jack seemed to clench his jaw as he spoke. 

“We can’t get close enough to find out. All we know is they’re living beneath a former power plant and the place is crawling with Talon soldiers. From what little we have been able to overhear, our best guess is omnic rifle attachments and possibly some type of biochemical weapon.” Lena sighed, her voice shaking on the other end of the line. "I don't understand why anyone would want this. Chaos and war, it seems so evil."

"The omnics of Kings Row have been oppressed for a long time, Doomfist is exploiting them for their already apparent hatred. Whatever Talon is getting out of this, money, power, control, we have to stop them by any means necessary." Jack leaned against the desk, eyes staring deep in thought at the phone. "We'll need to get inside that power plant to get a better idea of what they have."

A power plant in Kings Row. When Gabe told you he would be in the same place as Null Sector, you didn’t think he’d mean the literal place he’d sent you and Jesse on a once secret mission to. Your shoulders ached just thinking about it. Jack thanked Lena for her information before watching you carefully, expecting you would have something to say about it. 

"I could go back there. I've been there before and I doubt it's changed much." You spoke softly, although that didn't stop the pained look on his face from bringing up memories of when he almost lost you. "Or we could send Jesse-"

"I am not sending you back in there." His quick words came with a sharp bite to them. "I don't trust agent McCree in there alone either. I expect complete honesty and I'm not sure if I trust McCree of all people-"

"Jack." You tapped your fingers against the table, drawing his attention. "We can send him in with another agent. If Gabriel was trying to mess with us, it was smart to do it somewhere he knows you have an emotional tie to and he may be banking on the idea that you would be unwilling to send me or Jesse back there. I mean, he was the one who sent us there under secret orders, he knows _exactly_ what he's doing by using that location."    

At a table of people who all knew Gabe in different ways, you seemed to be the only person who saw this act of choosing Kings Row in a different light. Jack and Ana quipped back and forth about the best way to send in Jesse without it being a mess, including who would be a right fit to help him along the way. Angela stressed the importance of having on site medic teams this time, her eyes dropping with soft sympathy as they watched you rotating your shoulders feeling an uncomfortable familiar aching. They all spoke about how dangerous it was, how Reaper could be lurking around any corner ready to kill, but all you could do was stare at his file and think that the only reason he would tell you to go to that location was that he wanted you to be somewhere _familiar_. 

They all seemed to argue about the potential destruction, about who should be on what team, about what it would take to stop a potential attack that could kill hundreds of thousands of people. Captains threw ideas around until it finally came to a decision that Jesse would infiltrate the power station once again, however this time, his partner in crime would be the one person he wanted to work with least. 

You asked Ana not to tell him ahead of time. Instead, you walked with him on a misty morning to the launch bay where a small drop ship was waiting to whisk him away to London. 

"I wish you were comin' with me sunshine, it don't feel right goin' back there alone." He'd trimmed his beard that morning, taming hairs that stuck out every which way and if you looked close enough you thought he might have fixed the shaggy mess under his hat too. 

"Try not to get blown up over there without me." You smiled at him, walking at his side until you reached the ship doors. "Also, don't worry, you won't be alone-" 

Hanzo was already buckling into his seat against the wall. A sour look ruined the peaceful expression on his face before he crossed his arms tight over his chest. 

"No-" Jesse immediately broke into what you could just feel was a declaration of not wanting to work with him, you cut him off by pinching at the top of his ear and pulling his face down to your level. 

"He's on his mission with you because of the tech he uses. You don't have to like him, just _work together_. Find out what kind of weapons those omnics have then you can come home and I'll have a bottle of that cheap shitty whiskey already poured and a cigar already lit so you can complain your little heart out, but until you're back home I need you to watch each other's backs. Neither of you gets hurt. This is a stealth mission. Now that we're with Overwatch we don't have the luxury of fucking around and doing whatever we want, you have to listen to orders. I am not speaking to you as a friend right now, I'm talking to you as a captain, do you understand me?" Your voice was low, spoken through gritted teeth but it was loud enough for Hanzo to hear too. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as you release Jesse's ear and he ran his hand over the side of his face as if he was embarrassed. 

"I hear you, I hear you." He looked almost sheepish. 

You fell forward in a tight hug to his midsection, face pushing into his hard chest armor. There were so many things you really wanted to say. 

_Don't get too cocky._

_Don't try to take Gabe on alone if you find him._

_Don't get distracted fighting with Hanzo and lose sight of your surroundings._

_Don't almost get blown to bits in a building, no one will be there to catch you._

_Don't break your leg this time._

Instead, you lifted your eyes to him, giving him a worried look that said everything and more. 

"I'll be careful." He whispered as he hugged you back.

You should have relished in that moment longer. He tipped his hat to you as he walked through the threshold, an echo of a smile lingering on his lips and eyes that promised to follow your orders. As the door closed, you watched the glaring look he shot Hanzo, all his anger at the world bottling up in his chest. It was just a flash of rage, not one that threatened to hurt the other man, but it was a look in Jesse's eyes that held a strong grudge. 

The first day they were gone you were on edge. Waiting for any news from them was killing you. One of your agents mistyped their code, a simple mistake, an easy mistake to make just an extra bracket somewhere that needed to be deleted, but it sent you into a frenzy. For one person's mistake, you gathered the whole team up and sent them running around the building. Five laps for the mistake, one for every person that complained- you paced back and forth trying to convince yourself that you just needed to clear your head as they ran ten laps, fifteen laps, twenty laps. At one point you looked up to Winston's lab, some of his research agents had gathered at his window, overlooking the spectacle of communications agents on the verge of passing out from running around the building with you shouting at them. 

You would have kept them going too, if it wasn't for Jamison skipping out yelling out that he was going to 'join the fun!' then running right into your line of agents like it was a conga line at a party. As soon as you saw him with your agents and their strained uncomfortable faces you finally called them all back into the building to finish the coding practice without further incident.

Jack could feel you waking up at odd hours in the night. He tried to reassure you, whispering to you in the dark, his lips telling you everything was going to be okay as they grazed over the skin of your neck. Even with his kindness and encouragement, you could feel yourself losing the ability to focus and the gnawing doubts in your own ability to be a leader that makes real change. 

It was three days before you heard back from them, when you finally heard Jesse's voice again it sounded all too serious over the phone.

"It beyond anything I've ever seen before. The city they have beneath this powerplant is unbelievable, I kept thinkin' it had to end but every time it just kept goin'." Jesse grunted as it sounded like Hanzo was telling him to get to the point from somewhere in the background. "Listen, we didn't see it because there's three heavily secured floors that we couldn't get to, but we have a recording of two omnic resistance fighters speaking with someone from Talon. The weapon they plan to use isn't guns or bombs, it's a disease. A yeras-yars- ya- dammit, Hanzo you explain this bit, you're the one that heard 'em." 

"Pardon him." Hanzo's curt voice overtook the phone call. "Talon has supplied them with unlimited access to some type of antibiotic resistant disease they referred to as Yersinia pestis, they plan to release it multiple ways by introducing it to the surface with small creatures and through tainted food products-"

"Agent Shimada, I don't think I heard you correctly." Angela had a panic in her voice you'd never heard before. "Did you say  _antibiotic resistant Yersinia pestis?"_        

"That is correct." 

The room went quiet. The call went quiet. Angela was holding her breath with eyes so wide you thought they might just bug out of her face. 

"The plague. They're trying to take out humans with the _plague_."

"Surely humans have evolved past the plague outbreak?" Winston adjusted his glasses as he brought something up on his screen. "Medical science has advanced quite a lot in the last few decades-"  

"Medical science will have no chance of stopping anything in time if it's antibiotic resistant. To infect an entire city of people in a short amount of time... if that is truly what they have then there will be nothing we can do to save anyone who's exposed to it, save from evacuating the entire city before they release the virus." 

"We can not order an entire city to evacuate." Jack looked almost as shellshocked as Angela. "Even if we did attempt to get the humans out, there would be people who would refuse to or couldn't leave their homes, it would likely create a mass panic which could lead to even more fighting and destruction than there already is. We either need to find a way to stop Talon from supplying this, or take out the omnic population that's threatening to commit biochemical warfare." 

You were reeling, head practically spinning as you sat in your seat. It appeared Doomfist was making good on his promise to throw the world into absolute chaos, with him running Talon you were positive they would go to the greatest lengths they could for the maximum destruction possible, even if that resulted in the loss of human life on a grand scale. You were clutching your hand over your heart, feeling it pound against your skin as the meeting continued on as if you weren't on the verge of a meltdown. 

How much of this did Gabe know when he told you to come to London? He told you to be ready to put up a fight, not be ready to take down an entire city of omnics. With every heartbeat, your mind was flipping between options of him telling you because he wanted you to die with the rest of the world, or he still had an unwavering trust in you to stop Talon's plans. Moira was far too cold to you when you saw her on the bridge, you were trying to replay every moment of that night, trying to recall any sort of tell that she knew this was what they were planning. 

"Asking for the government's assistance on this is out of the question. Not only do they not trust Overwatch after the last time we got involved there, but we're not even legally allowed to be operating." Winston's voice boomed out above the others, crashing you back to reality. You looked wide-eyed to him giving him a look that made him draw back into his seat and stare with question. You rolled your lips between your teeth, nails digging into cuticles, locking eyes with him before cutting through arguing voices.

"I know a way we can stop it." Your voice shook. "It's extreme." 

"We don't have to resort to that-" Winston tried to stop you. 

"We're working with someone who knows a code that can knock out nearby omnics. I haven't tested it, but my guess is if we can build an EMP large enough it would be enough to take out the whole underground city. We'd just have to fight off Talon soliders, but then we could move in safely to contain the weapon."

"When you say knock out...?" Jack had this look on his face, one that was stitched with worry. You watched him stop his hand from moving to rest over yours on the table, trying to keep things professional. 

"Kill. We would be killing them." 

"Absolutely not. Overwatch is about protecting people, _all_ people, including omnics." Ana stood, slamming her hand down on the table. "There must be another way." 

"We are running out of time to find another way." Reinhardt leaned heavy in his seat, his face stoic with the expression of a man who had already seen too much war. "If it is for the good of humankind, we may need to use drastic measures." 

"Imagine if this is what Talon wants?" Ana crossed him, gathering her white hair high to the top of her head as she spoke. "They may be expecting us to do something drastic and use that against us, outing our existence to the world and painting us as the terrorists in the situation. I don't agree with this, Jack please tell me you agree with me. Surely you must understand the repercussions of murdering an entire city of omnics."  

"Overwatch failed London during the null sector crisis." Jack sucked in a breath, taking a moment to soak in every person's expression of concern. "Agent Shimada, are you still on the line?" 

"Yes, we can hear you." 

"Try to get an idea of their routines and potential Talon agents that would be guarding the area."   

“If you think this is our only option, then we shouldn’t bring along any of the omnic agents when we attack. I'll try to run some simulated tests, but my assumption is we’d be decommissioning every omnic in the area even those on the surface, there’s no picking and choosing which ones wouldn’t be knocked out.” You tried not to look at Winston. "We need a backup if things go south, and teams to protect it. Moving an EMP of that size won't be easy or ignored." 

"Reinhardt, will your team be available for protecting us while we move it across the city?"  

“Many of my agents are currently indisposed. Agent Song has returned home after another attack, Agent Zaryanova was called back by her government for an important mission of some sort. Most of the crusaders I am training are not ready for a mission of this scale, I do not feel comfortable putting them into a battle against Talon agents yet. So, as far as heavy armor combat goes, I can only offer myself and Brigette to assist in this.” Reinhardt leaned back in his chair, fingers running through his silver beard and eyebrows down in the thought. 

Jack scrolled to a map of the city, of the very area you'd been caught in years ago. The leaders around the table watched as he mapped out a trail for the EMP to follow. He seemed to be making plans and putting together teams off the top of his head, eyes searching through maps and reports for any potential obstacles. 

“Mccree, Shimada, you two will stay inside the powerplant to be our eyes before we arrive. Captain Amari and I will escort the EMP device to the powerplant, I'm sending in Torbjörn with us to ensure any on-site repairs can be done if needed. He may also recall the area and can help you through the streets. Reinhardt, you'll be with them to protect against any ambush attacks and I'd like to send in Fareeha if that's alright with you Ana. You need someone who can protect you from a higher vantage point.” Jack turned to you, the worry lines of his face looking far deeper than before. “We'll need a team to ensure the path is clear before we escort the payload.” 

“Count on me. If I can suggest a few people, I'd like James from the research team to handle explosives, his bodyguard will probably tag along even if I didn’t want him to.” You paused to think of anyone else that may be useful. “I want Genji with me for protection, I trust him to fight off any Talon or omnic attackers. I’d also like to see what Brigette can do in the field."

“She’s still new to this, most of the combat she’s done has been small town fights. Are you sure you want your life in her hands if it comes down to it?” 

“If Reinhardt trusts her, so do I.” 

Reinhardt smiled at you, not a bright over the top one like usual, but it was a small lifting of his lips that read more as a proud mentor than anything else. 

“Then it’s settled. Angela, have the medical staff on standby in a secured location here before we begin moving the payload. We'll have everyone moved to the location over the course of two days as quickly and quietly as we can. As soon as we have the EMP ready we'll move out." Jack glanced at you, his eyes flashing over Reaper's open file on your screen glowing back at him. "Now I'd like to make it clear to everyone here, although Talon is the enemy, we have to be prepared for anything. Reaper warned us to be there for a reason, be it that he was hoping we would fall into a trap or if he's attempting to come back to this life I need you all to remain focused. If he... if Gabe shows himself to you, I will not bar you from any use necessary to apprehend him but do not let him distract you from our main objective." 

After that meeting, you went straight to the research labs. 

Jamison seemed elated to see you, all too giddy to spout off the code you'd previously never wished to hear. You dragged him to a room in the far corner of the communications tower, to a computer with no connection to the AI as a growing fear built in you that somehow Athena would know what kind of monstrosity you were coding and would try to stop you. It took him sixteen minutes to spout out the entire code. With each line entered and each character typed into a blinking black screen your disbelief in his ability to have actually memorized the entire thing grew. 

He must be fucking with you, you were sure of it. 

He's actually crazy and just rattling off nonsense, that was probably it.  

He was just making it up as he went, you were positive. 

That is, until you asked him to do it a second time so you could double check everything you'd written. For sixteen minutes he said the exact same thing again, hand motions and giggles between letters and all.

You stared at the code for a long time. Too long. Jamison was hunched over behind you, his hands resting on his knees and that toothy smile on his face just waiting for you to pull the proverbial trigger and activate it right then and there. You sent him away, needing room to breathe and locked the door behind him with a heavy sigh. You hadn't expected to shake this much, for something as simple as a couple brackets and spaces with numbers between them to fry every single one of your nerves. Was this really the person you became? The person you _wanted_ to be?

How appropriate that everything started with a bomb. 

You needed to hear a familiar voice. You needed a friend to tell you everything was going to be okay. Jack was running through training with Ana. Winston could bearly look at you since you told everyone what you knew. Jamison certainly wasn't someone you'd consider a friend. Genji and Angela were making last minute adjustments to his body to prepare for the potential issues of an EMP blast. You pulled out your shattered phone and stared out the window overlooking the boring view of rocks siding the tall mountain. 

"There's my sunshine!" Jesse answered the phone just a little too quick, immediately flipping it from voice to video, as soon as you could see his face it hit you that neither of them were entirely sober. Hanzo had this disheartened upset look still, Jesse with a bruise dark on the height of his cheek. A cigar bit between Jesse's teeth, unlit and on the verge of falling out. "How's my favorite person in the whole wide world doin' this fine evenin'?" 

"Jesse did you get hurt? What happened to your face?" 

"Oh, I told this old man here that it was only fair for him to get a good punch in since I beat him pretty good on his first day." Jesse's arm fell around the tops of Hanzo's shoulders, he forced the man to his side with dark eyes that glared at him. "Not the hardest I've ever been hit but I think we worked our differences out, didn't we, _Shimada?"_

"Take your arm off me this instant or I will-"

"We're having a good time." Jesse smiled out at you, it was forced and clearly fake. "Had a bit of an argument about the best kinda a liquor."

"Is that why you're drunk _while on duty,_ Jesse?" You wanted to laugh at his antics, but as a captain, you knew this was irresponsible at best and deadly at worst.  

"I was not going to drink, but McCree-" Hanzo started before Jesse shoulder checked him. 

"Tattletale-" 

"Irresponsible-" 

"Would you learn how to relax a little? You sound so damn uptight-"

"You are the one who sounds like an idiot when you speak.” Hanzo wrinkled his nose, snarling back at Jesse and pushing him away before attempting to put on the worst impression of a southern accent you had ever heard. “ _Par-don me a-ma’am, I must take my break from my post for a smoke for the tenth time this’n hour._ That is what you sound like. A complete fool. Who taught you to speak? A feral child? Was your schooling done by someone with no teeth or ears? Tsk.”

You buried your face in your shoulder desperately trying to look away, biting at your lips and body shaking as you tried not to laugh. He was so serious, his face set in stone anger, way too serious. There was no teasing, no mocking, and it was all too much to hear him asking him such ridiculous things in absolute earnest. The last thing you wanted to do was laugh out loud and have Jesse feel like both of you were fighting against him. 

“Not all of us had the opportunity of livin’ with our rich mommies and daddies-” Jesse started to fire back in anger. Hanzo grabbed the collar of Jesse's shirt, gripping it hard at the front of his throat, immediately halting him from saying anything else. 

"You do not get to speak of my parents when you do not understand the life I have faced because of them." He was ignoring you on the other end of the call, eyes pointed to glare at Jesse who suddenly had nothing to say. 

There was a momentary stand still. Hanzo gripping Jesse's collar, you holding your breath, Jesse internally panicking thinking he was about to be knocked out by the sheer anger of Hanzo's voice. Far from them, reduced to watching on a screen, Hanzo released Jesse and turned with his shoulder hitting the other man hard enough to make him have to catch his footing. Jesse stayed quiet as Hanzo stormed off, the light pitter patter of his steps fading away to somewhere within the dark hideout they were staying in until Jesse finally turned back to you.

"Sorry about him." He tried to laugh, tried to play it off. "I'm tryin' sunshine, I really am. I thought maybe drinkin' a little would help lighten things between us but he's-" Jesse turned to look behind him, fingers running through his beard than to the bruise on his cheek. "He's fairly difficult to work with, I'll put it that way."    

"We'll be joining you two soon, do you think you can survive without killing each other until then?" 

"I sure hope so."    

* * *

London. 

Angela and her team of five medics arrived first, the plan was to be as inconspicuous as possible with most everyone arriving in day clothes and their supplies packed away in regular luggage. They set up temporary stations and cots in an abandoned church across the district from the powerplant. You arrived with your team, a handful of communications agents and Winston hours after, they immediately went to work putting together the massive communications and EMP center needed for setting off a bomb of this kind. Jack, Ana, and the remaining captains along with their team would arrive the following day with the physical bomb, until then, you were set to patrol the area for any signs of Talon or offensive omnics.

The church itself was something to behold, something you imagine would have been beautiful back in its heyday. Stained glass had been broken and replaced with boring window panes, the inside gutted of wood pews and alters, now sporting cables running up the walls and long-faced agents who knew morally what they were doing was wrong, but like so many others, put the priority of themselves over the lives of extreme omnics. 

Jamison and his bodyguard stayed in the church, opting to goof off playing rounds of pool on a dilapidated old table instead of patrolling like the other agents and you were heading out to do. Genji took the front of the building, Brigette pacing the back, you were stuck with the dark side alleys that already made you feel uneasy just by being alone there. It felt strange to be patrolling without your shattered mirror helmet, instead, you'd swapped out the massive mask for a cleaner eyepiece that had the same functions you'd installed in the mask. The fear of showing your face was gone, if you were going to fight Gabe, you wanted to be damn sure he would be forced to really see you.     

Not long after the city was sleeping and you were resigned to your post, you stood at full attention. It was a feeling you couldn’t explain, something uneasy and foreboding. Goosebumps scattered down your arms, the hair on the back of your neck stood, your breathing caught in your chest as you stared down the dark alleyway. Eyes were watching you, eyes you could see. You couldn't shake the feeling of a hunter eying its prey. 

"Gabe?" You whispered, voice cracking. "Gabriel? It's okay. I don't want to fight." You circled your gun to your back, holstering the weapon to hold your hands out in the air as you scanned the area for signs of him. "Please, I know you're probably confused and angry still, but you can trust me. You can always trust me." 

Silence. The feeling passed. Still, your hands waited in the air as your chest rose and fell with short breaths. 

This didn't feel right. 

Slowly, you lowered your hands to reach back for your gun. You couldn't see it, couldn't see any black smoke crawling across the floor or shadows moving between barred off alleyways, but something was coming you could feel it. 

Right as your fingers were wrapping at your weapon something fast and sharp hit your armored knuckles. You turned with a gasp readying to be faced with a bone white mask and claws coming for your throat. If Gabe was going to attack you, having you alone as you protected your teams was the perfect place to do it. 

Someone was coming at you, but they were much smaller than you anticipated. They were fast, arms grabbing for your wrists and restraining you with an almost bone breaking grip and a face appeared from the darkness. It was sickly, eyes that were dulled with a lifetime of hatred, once brown they were now gray and glazed over with popped blood vessels staining the whites. Once sporting a stylish short haircut, all her hair had fallen out save for the rare few inch strands sticking up from her scalp. Her lips were cracked and dry, splotches of irritation apparent anywhere that wasn’t covered and deep red, almost purple, veins bold beneath skin. There was an obvious snarl on her lips and she was far too close for comfort as she bore her teeth to you and inflamed gums caught your attention.

"Arntz?" Your voice broke, no fear or anger, just pure shock.    

It looked like she’d gained massive muscle definition, bulked up in a way similar to super soldiers but it hadn’t taken quite right and was done too quickly. Anywhere her muscle expanded was wrought with deep stretch marks. You’d heard the rumors she wasn’t doing well, you’d seen the security footage of how sickly she was, listened to Moira's warning that taking the tainted SEP serum would destroy her, but still, that didn’t prepare you for how she appeared.

"Expecting someone else?" It sounded like she was speaking through gravel. In a swift motion, she twisted you, forcing you to think on your feet to avoid being thrown against the brick siding of the church. "Expecting one of your little boyfriends to come save you?"  

A fist met your stomach, knocking the wind out of you and sending you stumbling back. Now you could see the full picture of her. She was wearing her old combat boots from Overwatch, scuffed and clearly beyond their time with frayed laces and splitting tops where armored combat pants were tucked in at the ankles. The armor she had strapped to her looked like it came from Talon, black and proudly displaying deep cuts, the grating on the top had been worn down from years of use. Beneath a chest plate, she was wearing a tank top stained with sweat, all sorts of weapons strapped to her biceps and forearms giving her plenty of access to anything it would take to kill you.

"You're sick." You groaned out through the pains of a punch to the gut. She wasn’t just sick, she looked like she could keel over at any moment. Moira’s failed serums weren’t being destroyed for no reason, they were pure poison- poison that she’d willingly pumped into her own body in an attempt to finish her quest to ruin you. “I’m not going to fight you.”   

"That's too bad. I was hoping to show you what I can do now that I'm unstoppable." She grunted as she threw something else at you, a tiny white bag exploding at your feet that you had no chance to stop. 

Within a flash you were surrounded with gray smoke, it sent you into a coughing fit and the eyepiece hovering in front of you fizzled through different screens, the technology on your face shorting blurring your vision. Whatever this smoke was, it hurt your lungs, stinging deep in your chest and filling with every breath. In your moment of weakness, she took her opportunity to run at you. She body slammed you against the church, the back of your head bouncing off the brick momentarily blinding you unable to fight back as she grabbed at your wrist. Her body pinned you to the building while she held something to your forearm. 

"How did you even find us here-" You were gasping through the smoke, struggling beneath her as she cut away the sleeve of your shirt and crudely wrapped strong tape around your arm and whatever it was that she was holding to you. 

"Oh I've been tracking _you_ for a long time." She eyed her work, staring down at your arm and only moving her body off yours to allow you to look at your arm. "You and that _fucking_ commander that should be dead."        

Whatever she taped to your arm was heavy and clunky. You snapped to look at it. A flat land mine. She'd duct taped a homemade, horrific looking land mine to your scarred forearm with wires sticking this way and that. Your mind seemed to short circuit, skipping immediately from fear into numbing ear deafening static. 

"Arntz." You breathed out. "Please, take it off." 

You were unearthly still, body frozen as you stared down at it. Flashes of white, memories of Leskow blowing to bits flooded back to you. She was smiling, out of breath, straining and wheezing happy to see you like this. 

"You were supposed to be my teammate." She stared at you, holding out a detonator in her hand. "I was so stupid for forgiving you, for feeling bad about signing that stupid contact and thinking I could leave it all behind me. I really thought I could have a normal life with all that money they gave me, and I almost did. Then you had to go and fuck the only person in the world who I hated. My friend. My teammate. You vacationed with and fucked the man who blew my fucking legs off!"

 _"Captain Mo- check- shout- over?"_ Static obscured Brigette's voice in your ear, you couldn't move, couldn't check in to tell her you needed help, fearing Arntz would push the detonator then and there. 

"Oh, but you didn't just do that either did you? No, you had to flaunt it all over the world that you were happy with him. You never gave a shit about me, you never even cared that I was dealing with PTSD from the sounds of your screaming. I was too afraid to go _camping_ because I was afraid mines were everywhere. I was stared at as the freak on campus with the fake legs while you were sucking the commander's dick and getting praised for your fake title of captain! And I couldn't say anything! I couldn't talk to my therapist about it because of that fucking contract, I couldn't tell anyone why I hated Overwatch so much or why the posters of Morison hanging up in the halls on campus made me shake and vomit! You got to live this perfect fucking life while I was out there suffering because of something you could have stopped!"    

 _"Check- you- someone- check in- hear me?"_ Brigette sounded almost panicked between the static.  

“It’s not fair.” She cried out between heavy breaths, tears now staring down her cheeks. You stayed silent, unable to rip your eyes from her. “My life was ruined because of Morrison and you just slept with him like it was nothing. You only got scars and I had to learn how to walk again. I got a man with his head shot to bits and you got one that could survive a fucking building exploding."

"I didn't get the perfect life you think I did." You pleaded. 

"Oh and that's not all. Imagine my surprise when after you got away from killing the man I loved, suddenly you're all the talk in Talon, too. They forced me out, I had to resort back to my connections with low-level gangs just to survive, but you overhear a lot when people think there's no one around. Reaper sure seems to be pretty fixated on you, him and that doctor could never seem to shut up about Overwatch agents. It shouldn't have surprised me to find out you were trying to get with any high ranking commander you could. Is that who you thought was here earlier? That Blackwatch commander whose so fond of you? Now that's just pathetic." 

"You don't understand what you did to me, what those messages you sent to me did-" 

"So you _did_ get my messages? Just as I expected, so fucking selfish. You couldn't even bother to send me back anything to ask me how I was doing or even try to have a conversation." Her smoke bomb was finally dissipating, the air clearing along with your eyepiece. She clicked her tongue in annoyance, rolling her broken blood vessel eyes to the side. "I was hoping Morrison would be here to see me do this, but I guess he'll just have to find you the same way I found Cornelious."

A movement on the rooftops caught your eye, a silent body climbing the brick siding of a home on the other end of the alley scaling the windows to get to a better attack point. Genji's green body lights flickered off leaving him completely in stealth. 

"Why a land mine, Arntz?" You mustered up the courage to speak louder, hoping Genji could hear you and understand why you were standing so still. "To prove a point? To blow up as much as you can, including yourself?" 

"I just wanted you to listen." She cleared her throat, her gravely voice thickening with the threat of mucus. 

"You didn't have to inject yourself with those serums to do that." Very carefully, you turned your forearm up facing it Genji's way. You tried not to focus on him, you forced yourself to look forward, straight to her and not to him creeping low behind her with his weapon drawn. 

"Not everything is about you." She snapped. "I didn't need to be strong to kill _you_. I needed to be strong to kill _Morrison_. You're just an annoying bug on the way to that. Once you're dead he'll come out of the woodwork to find me, to avenge his precious little toy-"

There was a horrific crunching sound. 

In the dark it was hard to see, but the look on her face told you everything you needed to know. Her body seemed to lurch, stomach jumping in surprise and a metal hand coming from behind her wrapped around hers at the detonator keeping it steady. The glossing over in her eyes, mouth open and inflamed gums visible forced a sigh from her body before the end of a blade burst through her weak chest plate. Genji pushed his sword through her with swift control while trying to keep her from pressing the button in her fingers. 

In her eyes were shock, shock but also a sad acceptance. As her body crumpled in on itself, Genji was fast to gather her in his arms, carefully holding her as her entire body shook when he rocked his blade out from her back. The top half of her body seemed to go limp and he lowered her to ground to lay as he gently uncurled her fingers from the detonator. 

There was a stillness, a moment where you could feel Genji's concern as he rose to his feet again leaving Arntz weak and sputtering out on the ground. Genji looked to you for guidance, for any indication that you were okay and you had to take a few shaking breaths before you spoke up.  

"Give that to me. Go get James and tell him to get here fast. Do not allow anyone else in this area." The urgency in your voice prompted him to hand you the detonator and run on his heels fast around the edge of the building out of sight.   

This was unlike any fear you'd felt before. It was a terror that shook you so deep it made you absolutely calm. You were afraid to move and accidentally prompt the explosion, afraid of facing the woman bleeding out at your feet. As carefully as you could, you lowered yourself to your knees next to her and the quickly growing spot of blood across her chest. 

"I'm sorry, Kiri." If you didn't have a detonator in one hand and a bomb strapped to the other arm, you would have tried to hold her. 

“It's okay.” She coughed out as she dropped her hand to her side, fingers bouncing on the ground until she found the edge of your pants and held loosely. Her breathing was painfully strained, you imagined blood was likely filling her lungs as she laid there. With as much energy as she could manage, she looked to you and stared seeming like she wanted to say something more. “I think I need to close my eyes for a minute.” 

“Sure.” You whispered, hands trembling. 

As her breathing slowed you stared up at a pollution covered sky. If you closed your eyes, you could just see the embers and ash floating above you not too much unlike a forest fire from long ago. Even with your knees pressing into the cold rocky sidewalk, and Arntz hanging on the last moments of her life, you allowed yourself to relax completely. Forgiveness for her anger, for messages that once sent you into a panic, for roping in a maniac who tied you to an operating chair and tried to reprogram you- forgiveness was easy when you could see the devastating lengths someone would go to in order to dole out their own justice. 

Around the corner somewhere you heard running, a footstep and the clicking of a peg against the stones. You opened your eyes to the dark alleyway, turning your head in time to see Jamison in a rush towards you and an armful of supplies. For once he had no smile on his face, no chittering or giggling, just a solemn look of focus. Against the backlighting of distant lamplights, you could see patches of his hair growing in over his skull, it was uneven and strikingly blond just like his eyebrows which were furrowing as he dropped tools at your feet.          

"I'll need ya to hold very still." He warned, lowering himself to your level on the ground. He balanced a flashlight between his shoulder and jaw, pointing it at the bomb on your arm as he carefully began unscrewing the top plate. You couldn't have moved, even if you wanted to as he worked on it. Every muscle in your body clenched together in paralyzing fear that he would do something to set it off. As you were shaking, he glanced to the woman stilled on the ground, his mouth lifting in a stupid smile. "Musta pissed this one off pretty bad, huh?" 

"Don't joke around right now." You whispered, your eyes dropping from his handiwork to Arntz now lifeless and still with her mouth open.

"S-sorry." He managed to say through nervous breaths. You were trying to be patient with him, with his nervous ticks and inability to pick up on cues that now was not the time to joke around, but he looked so guilty about saying anything in the first place that you just closed your eyes and tried to focus on the weight of the bomb against your arm. 

The thought of blowing up between someone that wanted to kill you and a man who lived for things being blown to smithereens laid heavy on your shoulders. The blast could range anywhere from just your arm to decimating that half of the surrounding buildings. Jamison stayed quiet, understanding his cheeky comments were inappropriate as he dismantled a bomb attached to your body and a dead woman laid just feet from you. The quiet of night gave way to him muttering to himself and the sounds of tinkering with metal casing.

He seemed like he was trying to comfort you, in his own way. When he wasn't holding the bomb itself he would gently hold your wrist, keeping your shaking arm steady. 

He worked with more care than you'd ever seen him do before. Instead of letting screws fall to the floor he gathered them in his palm. Instead of loud shouting in the lab and maniacal laughter at the expense of a small explosion, he focused on your breathing and worked around when little moments of panic would hit you patiently waiting them out. 

The smell of blood was soaking into your nostrils. All you wanted was Jack there, all you could think about was him handling the situation better than you could have. You wanted him at your side, holding you on the porch of a farmhouse telling you everything was just a bad dream. Instead, you had Jamison tapping at the inside of your wrist with a flathead screwdriver and a set of wrenches. 

Something shifted on your arm and you gasped in, eyes flying open to stare at the inner workings of the land mine. 

"This can't be right." He muttered to himself as he parted wires on the inside. "No, now that's just silly." 

"What-?" You could bearly speak through how tight your chest felt.  

"It's just a bunch of junk in here!" Now he was smiling, one side of his mouth lifting higher than the other. "There's some wires here that don't connect to anythin'- and ooh, look, these are just weights to make it feel heavy-"

"What-"

"It's a fake bomb! A waste of perfectly good materials is what it is." He happily cut open the tape, ripping it from your skin without a warning causing you to suck in a sharp breath and snatch your burning arm away from him. "Oops, sorry mate." 

Numb terror was quickly turning into dizzying confusion. Arntz was dead. She was dead at your side after she'd strapped a fake bomb to you, and for what? She just wanted to make you _listen_ to her? She was so lost, irreparably lost beyond anything you could have ever tried to bring back but that still didn't make the stinging in your heart ease. Only she had answers to your unspoken questions, along with her life so too also left her history of chasing after you, of ruining herself in an attempt to become what she thought was better and stronger. 

Free from the fake bomb, you whimpered out a small cry and scooped her up in your arms. She was surprisingly light for being so muscular, probably because of the hard light legs you guessed. Jamison watched from the ground as you adjusted her body, uncaring that her blood was pressing into your clothes and you held her tight taking a few unsteady steps towards the medical team in the church that you knew wouldn't be able to do anything for her. You were still so mad at her, still scared of her, but at the very least, you were finally taking her back to Overwatch.     

Baptiste was the first to find you stumbling through the doors with Jamison trailing behind you. He looked shocked, clearly not expecting to see you shaken and sweating carrying a corpse. You stayed glued to her side as they laid her beneath a sheet on one of the cots in the corner of the room. You stayed there with her in a sobering silence until the sun was rising into the early hours of the morning. That night spent recalling every moment you could have tried to help her, then the arrival of Jack with the escort strike team in the morning was a blur.

Too many people asked if you were okay and too many times you didn't respond. Too many eyes stared as you and the visor clad commander hugged each other for far too long. Too many emotions bounced around your skull to understand. The last thing you wanted to do after that was go out on a mission, nothing about wandering the streets of London clearing a path for a bomb to kill thousands of omnics seemed fair after your mind and body were put through the wringer like that. The last thing you wanted from a day after that was fight. 

You were too raw. 

You should have paced yourself, sent someone else in your place. 

You weren't thinking straight.  

It was too late. 

After a day that was far too warm from the sun beating down on the brick building, the entire team seemed eager to get out the cramped church and into the field. Hanzo and Jesse were already in position, eyes on the omnic city deep beneath the former powerplant keeping tabs on Talon guards on the secured floors. Jack and his team were waiting patiently set up in a secluded garage ready to move out as soon as you gave the go ahead that they had the all clear. 

In the cover of night you set out down the path, watching for any signs of Talon agents or anyone still roaming the streets you warned to leave, Brigette double checked behind as you scanned the path ahead. 

"I did not realize she was a former Overwatch agent." Genji's voice was low and apologetic as he kept at your side. "I hope you understand I thought I was making the right call in the moment in taking her life. I was so afraid she was going to kill you with that bomb." 

"I know." You tried to manage a smile to him but it hurt your heart. Your throat hurt from stopping sobs for hours. "I'm a little shaken by it still but trust me, I know you were only doing what you could to get me out of that. You'd protect me with your life and I appreciate it. I'd do the same for you if it ever came down to it." A ping distracted you within your eyepiece, a detection of life just up the road. You held your hand in the air to stop the team. "Someone's ahead."

"On it." He was first to check it out, peeking around the corner then giving a wave off. "False alarm, it is a woman and a child. They appear to be waiting for something." 

The team paused as the family waved down a black taxi, climbing in then puttering away without a fuss. You were still on edge, mind doubting everything you were seeing but you tried to push past it. The path was clear, you made it to the entrance of the powerplant to your surprise without any incident. By the plan, you were already doing well ahead of time and hunkered down with everyone readying for the next team to bring the payload to the crudely made barrier just in front of the omnic Underworld. Too distracted by your own thoughts, Brigette took over and informed the other teams you were in position. 

"Are we prepared for the barrier breach?" Jack's voice crackled over your earpiece. 

"All set. Jesse, Hanzo, any signs from inside?" You turned to look towards the powerplant although you knew you wouldn't see them through the thick metal walls.

"So far nothin' out of the ordinary, captain. Talon agents are continuing their same routines down here. Watch yourselves when you blow the doors. If they're gonna attack, they're probably gonna do it up top when you make a scene." 

"Right." You sucked in a breath trying hard to focus. "Be cautious escorting that payload. The streets are ready for you."    

Waiting for Jack's strike team to meet you was excruciating. It felt like you may as well have had that bomb still strapped to you. Every silent minute that ticked by made your heart beat harder, your head damper with cold sweat. In a way, waiting for them to arrive felt like the calm before the storm. There was something in the air, a feeling between everyone that had them on edge and had their eyes darting around the buildings. You still felt numb from seeing a blade sticking through Arntz's chest, the memory of it felt like ti stained your eyes and left a permanent glare that nothing could fix. 

Where does it end for you? When you've become so obsessed with, so obsessed to the point where life and livelihood don't matter? It all felt so empty. The only real fulfillment, anything that really had a sense of joy deep in your chest was frivolous things at home. The flowers on the porch at the farmhouse. The all too sweet breakfast Jack made too early in the morning. Pictures on the wall of you in a blue dress and your boys dressed to the nines. You were nervously pulling at the fingertips of your gloves, a fear setting in, a fear that at some point your obsession with bringing Gabe home, or trying to be a good captain would lead you down the same endless road she was on. How long before you're planting fake bombs on people, silently begging with a death wish? 

If you found Gabe in there, you were either killing him or bringing him home. No escape this time. 

You didn't like waiting like this. You didn't want to be left alone to think about the look on her face.    

"Approaching barrier now, prepare for my command." Jack's voice caught you off guard. Everyone perked up, eyes snapping to the Underworld barrier setup where you once recalled massive doors separating the powerplant from the city. 

This was it. Explosives lined the heavy duty archway, the road blocked with metal and concrete hiding a massive underground city beneath. Once that was blasted away the payload would be a short distance from a service lift that could drop the EMP to the center of the city. In your core you could feel the bubbling anticipation, the nervousness of seeing black smoke pouring from behind the barrier as soon as it burst open.

As one last final check, you scanned for life on the other side, only for your tech to return with nothing but static and the sound of Jack's voice giving the go ahead to blast as a payload turned the corner coming into sight surrounded with his strike team.    

It was loud, you expected that much. The blinding white light that pierced the sky had you gasping for air as you covered your eyes. Even behind the cover of Brigette's shield from yards away, you still felt the heat from it. 

"Move in, stay sharp!" Jack barked and with no hesitation all agents were in their places. His strike team took the front, Fareeha remained hovering above as you surrounded the back with your own team.    

The entire team wasn't even through the now open entrance when a first shot whizzed over everyone, clattering through metal walls. It was a powerful shot, a sniper who had aimed for Fareeha and missed. With everyone looking to that direction you were able to focus your attention to the side, rows of Talon agents with weapons drawn lined the metal walls just past the opened arch and standing just a few feet in front of you was a familiar face. Usually smug, usually with eyes that had something twinkling behind them, Sombra was just to your side holding her hands in the air at a screen jamming your own tech. 

"Sorry boss. I tried to tell you I wasn't helping you anymore." Her lips curled in a regretful smile just before she phased away and you were left face to face with a small army of men in white and red masks.   

The main mission was to move the payload, but you could feel it, an overwhelming urge to completely ignore your duties and give into this chanting from deep in your stomach.

You could take them. If you just gave in then you wouldn't even have to think about it. Your confidence grew and screamed in your ears that you could take every single one of them if you wanted to. After all, at least one of them probably knew where Gabe was. Maybe if you slashed just a few agents open then the person you were really waiting for would finally show his face. Jack was already yelling orders, people were already dodging bullets, you were hyperfocused on the shadows against the wall. 

"Stay with the payload!" Reality came crashing down as you heard Jack barking in your ear between shots. "Are you hearing me? We'll handle the ambush, get this thing to the service elevator!" 

Right, you had a job to do. You circled around to the front of the payload and readied to push through groups of Talon agents. Your breathing was unsteady, eyes unable to focus. When did you start sweating this much? Voices were starting to sound distorted, echoing gunshots all blending together. Pounding threatened at the base of your skull, a wave of unfamiliar nausea.

Focus.

Be a captain, do your job. 

"Jesse, Hanzo get to surface level, we need you up here." You called into your earpiece. 

"Already headin' up!" 

The sound of Reinhardt crashing his crusader hammer against armored Talon agents echoed through the hallows of building along with his battle cry. Somewhere high above everyone a sniper was aiming at Fareeha again, all the while Fareeha prepared an assault of her own. Brigette was doing everything she could to protect what little she could with her shield, somewhere along the way you lost track of where Genji had bounced off to. Orders were mixing in with bullets, screams with the clashing of weapons, it was chaos and fighting but in that blur you were able to move the EMP around a corner and in sight of the service elevator that would drop it down to the city below ready to be activated.          

There was something else waiting for you just in the center.   

 _Someone_ waiting for you around the corner.

The world slowed for you as a cloud of black smoke swirled high to form into the shape of a familiar cloak and heartstoppingly sharp talons. The pandemonium surrounding you was of no concern once a bone white mask turned to face you looking over a clouded shoulder, snapping to an almost magnetic connection that instantly had you fixated.

You were in no mood to just talk. Even though all you wanted to do was scream at him, to snap him out of his dramatic mindset, you planted your feet firmly on the ground and made your decision. If a fight was what he wanted, he was going to get it from you.     

Circling your rifle from your back you b-lined straight towards him pushing past and sliding beneath a line of Talon agents in your way who missed their grabs at you. They tried to stop you but it felt like nothing in the world would as you zeroed in on him. Your teammate's voices overlapped one another, Jack's voice fading between them angrily yelling at you to get back to the payload. No commander, no order, no begging from your team could rip you away from your new goal, from an obsession pulsing deep within you: Get Gabe.

Unafraid to fire at him, knowing full well he'd be able to dodge them, you tried to slow him down by shooting at his armor. Every shot was a drumbeat in your chest, every curl of smoke threatening to envelop you. He was quick, quicker than he'd ever been when you were training with him. His control far surpassed what you'd helped him with, his movements much more fluid and graceful.

As you ran closer he pulled his own shotguns in front of him, lining his shot directly to your head. Talon guards chased after you, drawing their weapons in your direction as you skidded to a standstill just a few yards from Reaper. So many weapons, and yet you felt absolutely no fear. If he was actually going to kill you he would have done it when he had the opportunity. 

You were standing with him on the bright yellow plate of the service lift, a standoff with each of you waiting to make your move. 

Fighting still echoed off the walls behind you, radio voices spoke beneath masks as the group slowly converged on you.

"Call your guards off. You and I both know you don't need them to fight me." 

His claws adjusted against the hold of his gun, tapping and considering before he slowly lowered it. The Talon guards behind you shifted, you heard them taking steps back, keeping their distance but not leaving altogether. Amongst the fighting in the massive room there was a standing calm between you two. You were stuck staring at him. Gabe was the eye of your storm that wracked through your life. Sucking in a sharp breath that almost felt like a stab in your lungs, you shot again just once to watch him dodge and reform closer to you. 

"Looks like someone's trigger happy." He growled out at you but you could hear the smile on his voice. "Still upset about the last time we talked?" 

"You're not fooling me." You almost laughed at him. He wanted to be your villain so bad, he wanted you to hate him, but still, all you saw beneath that mask was the man who once curled in your lap sobbing on a dark meeting room floor overwhelmed with the duties of loss. "No matter what you do, no matter how scary you think you are, I'm not giving up on you Gabe." 

"Do not call me that." He threatened. 

"Tell me, what was this really? Why have me bring backup here, why have me bring a fight to you when we would have otherwise never found out about it?" You were snarling at him, digging your heels against the ground he stood still and the guns behind you lifted once more. With a huff you circled your gun back around you, locking it in place in the holster as a show you were unarming yourself and curled your fists at your side. He stayed completely still as you walked up to his chest, beating a fist on his breastplate and reached for his mask. "Listen, my last twenty-four hours have been pretty terrible. Just tell me what the fuck it is that you actually want. I'm done with this stupid-"

His hand caught your wrist as your finger hooked on the latch of his mask. You both froze, his voice lowered ensuring only you would hear him amongst the racket.

"I don't want this war any more that you. Do I need to remind you of the shit I lived through in the first omnic war? Or does Jack sugar coat that for you too?" 

"Fuck off. You killed innocent people. Whole towns. You don't give a shit about war or death anymore." You tried to pull away but he held you tight in place.  

"You're angry and upset. Calm down and listen to me." His voice was almost a hiss. Somewhere in your ear Jack was pleading with you to fight. "I've watched what you're capable of. Back at that base in Canada, when you slaughtered my men, I know what you were feeling. When you lose control at first, it feels good. You feel powerful, you feel unstoppable. Then you see the blood on your hands, you smell it for days. It feels like your head isn't attached to your own body, you're dizzy. It's like something else takes you over. Imagine feeling like that for years. Lost in a daze, chasing after memories that never fully form, taking orders from people that just want to use you as a weapon. You are naive to believe that was what I wanted after all the work we did with Blackwatch." 

You didn't want to face these feelings, you didn't want to remember anything about that time. Not now.

With his hand distracted at your wrist, you jutted your elbow against him knocking the wind out of him and catching him off guard. You did what he'd always told you to do, you went low for his legs attempting to dive between them and attack him from the back.

Arms up. Never let your guard down.

Dodge, don't block.

Attack from behind.

Go for the knees.

Fight dirty.

His lessons meant nothing when he was cheating at his own game. How were you supposed to fight dirty when half the time you were grasping at smoke? As you fell between his legs, he caught you. He grabbed your rifle, snapping it off the holster and tossing it far from where you were fighting on the service lift, the gun clattered across the floor then slipped over the edge falling far from you down into the neverending underground city. 

"I can't keep excusing what you do." You slid on the metal floor, only for him to grab at your legs and pull you back out in front of him. 

"I told you to come ready for a fight! Did you really plan on fighting me all alone while your team completes their mission? You still have so much to learn. It's a shame, really." He was _scolding_ you. Now your heart was pumping. Those clawed fingers of his were twisted into heavy fists, hits coming at you forcing you to block true punches. He spoke through heavy throws dodging your hooks. "Doomfist was the one who ordered us to supply the omnics with weapons, not me. I trusted that you would still be smart enough to bring along your new troupe of freaks. I knew you would find a way to stop his plan because even after all this time I still trust you to get the job done. We're not working together, but we are still working on the same side!" 

"If we were working on the same side you would be with Overwatch!" You cried as you got in a punch that didn't seem to affect him. Whatever this was, a game or a trick, you refused to play along.  

"Overwatch wouldn't have a chance if I wasn't on the inside of Talon." He growled and grabbed you, nails digging into the side of your arms, mask forcing its way directly in front of your face. His words were confusing you, your mind drifting between believing Gabe was somewhere behind that mask and Reaper trying to trick you. He shook you, nails digging in causing you to groan and focus all your attention on him. "I know things are messy. It feels like it's always been that way with us. I need you to listen to me and listen well. I'm working for Talon, you can't change that but I will either destroy it from the inside out or die trying."

"My head hurts." You mumbled. Your head felt too heavy, anger in your stomach threatened to push its way up your throat. The pain of talons pushing past your clothes and into your skin fogged your mind. "I don't want to do this anymore, Gabe. Please just come home. I- Ugh, I feel dizzy. You're hurting me." 

"You are too much of a distraction for me. I still have this soft spot for you that I desperately wish I didn't and I know they will try to use you against me. I am begging you, please stop chasing after me. Let me do my work and let me die without thinking of your face every damn day."

You opened your mouth to speak, eyes watering desperately trying to hold back everything you'd bottled up since you saw him bloodied and holding out dog tags to you. In your chest it felt like you heart dropped from your body, falling down past your feet, down through the bright yellow service lift, down into the tumbling omnic city below for miles and miles.  

There were no words you could get in before a sharp noise whizzed over your head. Your pupils blew out as tearing through his black hood scared you back and the forehead on his mask cracked with a shiny copper bullet crashing into the center. He stumbled backward, gloved hand pressing to the top of the mask and a horrific growl leaving him. You gasped and fell to the floor, twisting your body around to search the trajectory, chest tight with a fear that just as you were going to get somewhere with Gabe, the opportunity was ripped away from you. 

High in the rafters Jesse was pointing his gun, his face shrouded in shadow beneath his hat while a bright red cloak fluttered over the edge of a railing, Hanzo scowled at his side aiming an arrow still shaking in his grip. All the Talon agents behind you turned their guns to Jesse, your heart pounded louder than their bullets. Nerves had you shaking. Fear was taking over. Panic was clawing you down into the depths of the city. Somewhere behind the line of agents, the EMP was approaching with your team who were trying to rush the scene. 

Confusion and anger finally spilled over. The bubbling pot of emotions at its boiling point blowing off the lid and all at once you could see everything all too clear. It was too much. It was all too much. Everything was too much. There were too many people. It was too loud. Everyone just needed to let you think. 

Give in.

Give yourself over to it.

Give to the darkest parts of you that want to escape. 

In a world of black and white, you were unnaturally calm. 

"Wait-!" Came Gabe's voice gasping as one hand clawed against his forehead and the other reached for you.

You turned too quick, his body was breaking into clouds of smoke struggling to stay solid. Without a second thought, you were reaching for Genji's knives strapped to your thigh, you spun them in the air before blades landed in each palm and you ran low towards the Talon agents with a cold determination. Give them what they deserve. Give yourself the peace you needed.  

He was right. You did feel powerful. Pushing a knife into flesh, past the black uniform covering, it was almost therapeutic. From the corner of your eye you caught the terrified faces of your teammates who watched on as you moved from neck to neck, digging in blades in the spot between their armor as they struggled to stop you in time, as their guns missed you. You wanted to smile, ignoring their screams and attempts to grab you. With each dropping body you felt a release, a freeing from your lungs of breaths trapped from a rage that had buried deep and you weren't ready to stop when the bodies of enemies ran out. 

 

Let the feeling take over.

Let everything you'd suppressed and all the people who held you back feel what you thought they deserved to feel.              

What that how it felt, Gabe? To wrap hands around your throat and fight this urge- how hard that must have been. He took the _easy_ road by letting the feeling consume him, this all felt too easy, letting your mind go completely blank and your body attack on its own, it was almost like a drug. It would be too damn easy to let it take you over, to leave your mind on autopilot and forget about the repercussions. 

You could feel it. The calm of the kill. 

You could feel the confusion that swirled in your mind as screaming tried to pull you back. 

Jack.

You could hear Jack. 

"I'll shoot you! Please, please don't make me shoot you." 

You could hear Jamison. 

"What's that? What's _wrong_ with her?" 

You could hear Ana.

"She's going to kill him!" 

Your world was coming back into view. With a heavy breath through gritted teeth you lifted your eyes, looking to the catwalks high on the ceiling and finding a cloaked shadow staring down as it gripped claws tight around cable supports. Light trails of black smoke twisted into the air above you, disappearing like embers to the sky towards Reaper slipping into the shadows. Your world of black and white was far too vivid. Even from so far down you could see his eyes through the holes of his mask, eyes that were wide with horror and heartwrenching sorrow. 

"Let go of him, captain." Jesse's voice was closer than you thought it'd be, the sound of it making your body jump with surprise. 

There was someone beneath you. Your eyes snapped to your hands, gloves wet and soaked in a thick greasy fluid that was oozing from one of Genji's back wires.

He was still breathing as you sat heavy on him, your knee pinning down the small of his back and one hand gripping his wrists together with a strength you didn't know you had in you. He was shaking, back expanding with tight quick breaths and the exposed plate over his spine tossed to the side to allow you access to wires you knew were important, ones you'd messed with before that could have cost him his life. His facemask had been beaten off, it rested far from him exposing his scarred face where he was breathing heavy with the side of his lips against the metal floor.  

As your mind was catching up to the situation you realized it wasn't just Jesse at your side. His Peacemaker was pointed at your head, he was shaking. Ana was lowering her gun as you looked to a sleep shot resting in your arm that you never felt hit, Hanzo still had his bow drawn from his vantage point across the room, Reinhardt was blocking Brigette who was holding her throat, between fingers you saw attempted gashes on her neck armor. Jamison partially hid behind his bodyguard with a detonator in one hand and a mine in the other, the bodyguard himself standing in a way that told you if you came after Jamison he would have thrown you straight down the massive opening to the omnic city below.

Genji tried to stop you.

He tried to stop you from killing your own team and you'd attacked him. 

Jack. Jack was directly in front of you. He'd dropped to his knees, mask taken off resting in his palm with his rifle propped on one leg and eyes that begged you to come back to reality. 

"Look at me, sweetheart." He whispered. On his leather jacket you saw smeared blood, the blood Talon agents you hoped. "It's okay. You're okay. I just need you to get off of Genji, can you do that for me?" 

"I'm scared." Your voice shook, you couldn't move. Gabe was gone, lost in the shadows high above you somewhere. 

"I know. I know you are. There's some other people here that are scared too, I think maybe you're scaring Genji pretty bad. Listen, he needs to go see Angela right now. I need your help so we can take him to Angela."  

A dull pain in your thigh was quickly worsening, the pain was getting sharper and burning with each twitch of the muscles. You looked away from Jack for just a flash, your eyes catching the sight of a shiny metal arrow sticking out from the side of your thigh just above your knee, you stared at it, watched as the base of the arrow dug beneath your pants surrounded with black smoke that crept up into the air. The shine from it was glaring, blindly white in your world of monochrome.

You wanted to let go of the wires in your hand, you knew you needed to but your body couldn't. It was like you were stuck there unable to do anything else. Familiar and new faces surrounding you with weapons drawn only hurt more, the looks in their eyes, the _fear_ of you. Jack reached forward curling his hand over yours, fingers wrapping and gently pulling your hand away from the tubes pulled from Genji's back. He helped you take yourself away from it, holding you still with love even as every person in the room seemed to ignite with a fear of you.

"I'm- Genji, I'm so sorry." You whispered down to him, unable to muster up the energy for much else. 

Hanzo slid down the siding as soon as Jack had your hands, the quiet sound of his feet tapping along the metal sent a fear in you that he would be digging an arrow into your heart the moment he was within reach. Jack turned to him as he wrapped his arm around your sides and lifted you from Genji. 

"We still have a job to do." Jack was stern, using his commander voice even though it was uneasy. "I'm taking her to medical, Hanzo get your brother and follow me. Captain Amari is in charge, I will come back as soon as I can to help defeat any remaining Talon agents. Get that EMP to the service lift and activate it. Destroy the biochemical weapons by any means necessary." 

He scooped you up, cradling you in his arms and Hanzo threw Genji over his shoulder with a long glare in your direction. You felt numb. You watched Jack's face bounce above you as he ran, the blood on his jacket smeared against you as your body moved against his. There was only a look of determination on his face but he was holding his jaw too tight, teeth grinding together the entire way back to the abandoned church. As your world was slowly coming back into color the reality of your own actions was crashing down on you. 

There was no normal for you, not anymore. 

Jack directed Genji to Angela who immediately jumped into helping him. He brought you to Baptiste and he did what he could to fix you up while Jack refused to answer questions about what happened. Hanzo wanted to say something, you could see that much. You watched the disgust on his face, the anger in his eyes in your direction and you were sure all hell would break loose if anyone told the medical team that you were the one who did that to Genji. Instead, Jack roughly pulled at Hanzo telling him to keep it together and go with him back to the powerplant. 

"I've asked Baptiste to sedate you until we come back, it's for your own safety and the safety of everyone else here, okay?" Jack spoke quietly to you before he was on his feet again, running with Hanzo out the doors back to battle. 

You didn't belong there.

You didn't belong with that team who was treating you like one of them.

Maybe it was panic, but you could feel it all too clear in the moment: you needed to get as far from them as possible. As soon as you were given a moment alone, while Baptiste was preparing a sedative, you took your opportunity. With a note that only read 'I'm sorry' and a peek at Genji's operation you pulled a tube from your arm. Grabbing your bag as you slipped past the medical team, you escaped quietly into the streets of London and far from your mission. The first thing you needed to do was change out of those combat clothes. Uncaring of any potential onlookers from windows high above you, hidden in the darkness of an alley blocks away from the church you stripped down and pulled your only clean clothes from your bag. 

Jeans were a bitch to pull over the wound on your thigh, but you grit your teeth and forced them on anyways. With no option for a shirt you pulled an oversized hoodie on the top, it was a spare one from deep in the Gibraltar uniform closets, sporting the Overwatch logo bright across the back of an attention bringing blue, but at least it covered your scars. You balled up your bloody clothes and left them there against the edge of a building, walking away as best you could towards the sounds of a busy city street.  

* * *

Wandering.  

At first, you weren't sure where to go, all you knew was that you had to run.

It should have been no surprise that you hopped the first flight you could to Iraq, straight towards a campus boasting the biggest breaks in genetic discovery. 

You made it there late in the afternoon. The wound at your thigh was healing horribly beneath the cheap supplies you'd wrapped it with, blood was dried against the inside of your jeans, staining them for onlookers to gawk at. If you moved the wrong way it would burst open again, shooting pain through your body and forcing you to rest before being able to move your leg again. You wandered the campus in a haze, knowing it was long past the time she'd be opening the doors to her lab. You managed to hobble your way across the campus, sweating and shaking all the way to an open door of an auditorium featuring a lecture from the head of the genetics branch at the university.

Students filled seats near the stage, open notebooks and quickly scribbling pens were the least of your worries as you made it as far down the row as you could and collapsed into an open seat on the end of a row. Some people stared, others rolled their eyes and averted looking your direction choosing to focus on their notes before the speaker graced the stage.   

Everything ached. Your throat was dry and you needed something to dull the pain desperately but you stayed perfectly still in your seat. Moira appeared through a set of doors on the other end of the auditorium, her usual getup of a carefully closed labcoat replaced with business pants that rested high on her body making her already long legs look even longer than they normally did. Every hair was perfectly in place, her shirt hung perfectly over her shoulders tucked in at the waist. Instead of deep veins across her skin you found she'd contained the deteriorating parts of her body were covered with metal pieces and in her arms she carried in folders stuffed with documents.  

She set herself up behind a podium, activating a screen at her back and the room settled to a quiet before she scanned the room. Her eyes were cold, verging on annoyed almost, until they fell to you and seemed to doubletake. You gave her a tight smile and fluttered your eyes shut, leaning your head back on the auditorium chair and she greeted everyone. 

While she lectured, you finally rested. 

Moira wasn't afraid of you. No matter what you became, no matter how dangerous the war between Talon and Overwatch became, you knew she was your friend and would welcome you in with open arms and a waiting vial. 

After her lecture, she waited until the room was cleared to come to you. She helped you stand, helped you walk all the way to her lab where you tried to relay as much as the story as you could remember. She listened with an unchanging face, unsurprised that Overwatch tried to stop the release of the biochemical weapon. Instead of offering serums or advise, she asked you to show her the wound at your thigh. You braced yourself again as you pulled the jeans from it, dried blood ripping it open again and you clutched into your seat as she got a closer look.    

"This looks terrible." She curled the top of her lip in disgust before dabbing at it with a cloth that reeked of rubbing alcohol and pierced into your nerves. "You're sure you saw black coming out of it? It couldn't have just been your imagination?" 

"I know what I saw, Moira." You sighed. 

She had you stay there in that seat not only to rest, but to run test after test on you. In her big lab, empty of other people but boasting some of the worlds best technology she printed off endless reports after pricking your finger or taking all sorts of blood samples. You stayed there late into the night, the smell of her strong black coffee filled the lab along with a delivered meal you couldn't bring yourself to eat. The worst scenarios were playing out in your mind, thoughts of falling to pieces, of being surrounded by clouds of black. 

On the other end of the lab a phone rang, Moira glanced at it then brought it to her ear with eyes watching you carefully. 

"I was wondering when you'd call." Her voice had a smugness to it. A few moments went by as she listened to the caller. "Of course she's here. I've fixed up the hack job that your medics did, tell Angela and her team to get a grip and learn how to wrap properly." 

"Moira." You groaned, rolling your eyes and holding your hand out for the phone.

She tsked you before handing it to you. 

"Hey, handsome." You sighed into the phone, biting back a dry sob. "How's Genji, is he... okay?" 

"He'll survive." On the other end of the call you heard Jack scratching at short facial hair. "I'm glad to hear your voice, you really worried me by running away from us after that. It's a pretty bad look for both of us and it's been a bit of a bitch trying to calm everyone down."

"I know." You chewed the corner of your lip.

"I'm worried about you." He paused, you held your breath. 

"Listen, I think I'm going to head home and stay there for a bit before I come back to Gibraltar. I know you're busy being commander again and all, but do you think maybe you could join me?" 

"Of course. I'll get there as soon as I can." Something about his voice was wavering, a pain he was leaving unspoken. "Take care of yourself, okay? Don't let that mad scientist do anything else to you. I need you."  

It hurt so much to talk to him like that. Distance, not just physical, there was distance that had your stomach flipping with uneasiness. The call ended and Moira gave you a moment to collect your thoughts before sharing the results of an evening of tests. You wrapped your arms at your center, feeling completely small in the oversized hoodie even though you must have looked crazy sitting in her lab with no pants on and slides of your own blood resting on the table. 

"I'm sorry, I know it's not what you want to hear, but there doesn't seem to be anything I can do to stop whatever it is that's happening to you." Her eyes fell to a massive stack of papers sitting on a nearby desk. "In a few months, my research of repairing degenerative genetic structures will be available to the public. All the work I've done with Gabriel and my experiments on you, and myself, will be something others can hopefully learn and study from. As it stands right now I have made little progress and the most I can tell you is that it's a grim outlook. For both of you." 

"So, what? He's just going to keep getting worse until he can no longer form anymore?" 

Moira shifted in her seat, long nails resting against your skin tapping in thought. The idea of Gabe being stuck in a degenerative limbo seemed almost like he was doomed to a lifetime of torture. 

"That's the most likely outcome, yes." 

"And what about... what does that mean for me?" 

"It means you may be there too, one day." Her always stoic face remained unchanged, but her eyes searched for forgiveness. "Because of Gabriel's genetics, the deterioration is only effecting your blood. Your body does not heal as quickly as his does, it isn't creating new blood cells at a high enough rate. By correlation, my assumption is the degeneration process will also take longer to show anywhere else. That is to say however, the more stress you put on your body to continually heal itself the faster this is likely to occur. If you keep putting yourself in situations where you get hurt or endure the distress that activates the emotional response- your black eyes- you will push yourself too far. Even one more bad injury where you lose too much blood and that could be the end of it for you."

"And there's nothing you can do?" You whispered in a repeated shock.

"I can ease the pain of it, just like I did for him." She couldn't look you in the eyes. "Other than that, no. I wish I could do more, believe me."  

You sat in silence, eyes glossing over as you stared straight ahead into the air. Every heavy breath made your head feel light, every exhale on the verge of tears. 

"I think..." You trailed off. Moira lifted her head to look at you with guilt written across her face. "I think I'm going to go home now."

"You're welcome back any time." She reached for you, some attempt at grabbing your hand to show you compassion, but you turned and forced yourself back into bloodied jeans. "Please, come visit any time. Not just for help. It's nice to see you." 

"Thank you for trying to help me Moira, really." You faced away from her as you buttoned your pants. Your hands were still shaking, her words felt like they were gripping you from the inside and twisting in every direction. 

When you turned back to you she looked uneasy. Mismatched eyes seemed to stare down at the bloodstain, she held her arms close to her body and you caught yourself wondering what other weight was resting on her working not just with Talon, but with her biggest failure on a day to day basis. It ached you to think that she would look at Gabe the same way, with stoic pity and journals full of notes on all the ways she'd tested cures that never worked. The stillness between you hurt, both far too familiar with each other and yet neither of you willing to give a true goodbye. 

"Alright, I'm leaving then." You sighed and turned gathering your bag from the floor.

As soon as you weren't looking she grabbed for you, pulling the sleeves of your sweatshirt in her direction and her thin arms hugged you loosely. You were sudden for a moment, blinking back in surprise that she would show you such obvious affection. A moment of being stunned gave way to you gripping into the back of her shirt and pressing your face to the satin fabric of her dress shirt. There was a jump in her chest, a sob that you could feel was about to let loose but she kept it at bay. 

"You're going to make me cry, Moira." You stepped back, dropping your arms and pulling yourself from her hug. There was a smile across your lips, strained from stopping yourself bursting into tears. "It's okay. I'll be okay."

"You've come a long way, my friend." She placed a hand on your shoulder, walking with you with slow steps to her lab doors. "Well then, I guess this is goodbye for now." 

* * *

Home.

The house was dark and dusty. You ran your fingers over blue and white wallpaper, fixed photos hanging that were lopsided, opened all the windows to let in fresh air. It felt good to be home. You were in pain and agonizing over what you'd done, but at least at home you could remove yourself from the absolute fear that came with dwelling in your own mental state. Waiting for Jack, you tried to busy yourself with laundry or watering wilted flowers on the porch. The days you puttered around the house along you eyed your computer setup, avoiding walking into the room fearing you'd be too tempted to get into the Overwatch systems and read the report for your botched mission.       

Then on an impulse, you crawled beneath the desk, avoiding eye contact with the screens and you yanked the cords from the outlets shutting down every system you'd set up when you were living a life filled with paranoia. 

When Jack came home he was back to his incognito clothes, his red baseball hat over his head with dark sunglasses covering his stark white hair and you ran out of the house to the driveway to greet him. 

He hugged you tighter than he ever had, refusing to let you go fearing you'd run away the moment you were no longer in his arms. Lips landed anywhere they could reach along your head and cheeks, whispers of worry between them. There in his arms is where you felt safe, that's where you were meant to be. He lifted you to his height, pressing his lips to yours and kissing you as if he'd never get the chance again. He had bruising along his face and hands, healing from whatever battle he seemed to fight with Talon agents deep in the underground city.   

"I love you, I love you so much. Please never do anything like that ever again. I thought I lost you-"

"I'm so sorry." You sobbed out, hands gripping hard into his shoulders. "Fuck, Jack, I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me, I-"

"Sweetheart," He whispered against your lips, his brows pinching together. "Let's get inside. There's a lot we need to talk about, but the first thing I need to do is make sure you're okay."   

He placed you back on your feet, dragging his fingers through your hair to push it from your face and landing a soft kiss at the top of your forehead. With a backpack hanging off his shoulder he laced fingers between yours and you followed him up the wood steps and through the door. His first order of business was to change into something comfortable, loose sweatpants and a worn old shirt. You followed him to the kitchen, curling your knees to your chest as you sat in your chair at the table and watched him rummage for food to cook.

You spoke in hushed conversations, spilling everything Gabe said to you and the truth of your reality that Moira dealt to you. He told you how they won, how without you they were able to activate the EMP and raid the section housing the disease. Before he made any decisions, before he tried to offer advice or words of comfort, he listened completely to you. He heard you, watching you with sneaking glances as he seared something in a pan. He wanted to hear your side, he wanted to know what was going on in your mind before even forming a true opinion and you rattled off every emotion you felt that was squeezed in your throat.  

When you were done you still felt the weight of guilt on your chest that you just couldn't shake.

"Does everyone hate me now?" You asked him under your breath. 

"They don't hate you but..." He trailed off as he walked through the kitchen, setting something that smelled of lemon and basil in front of you. "Some agents are afraid of you. I've been hearing an increasing number of arguments between people who think all sorts of crazy things. Some people think you're working with Reaper and have been the whole time. Others believe you're not human and have said they will refuse to work with you. Unfortunately someone, or multiple someones on the team, already talked about what happened to agents that were not there and rumors have been spreading across base that you're a traitor. We'll work it all out when we go back at the end of the week, I promise." 

"At the end of the week? I don't know if I'm ready for that-" 

"You will be. I have to head back at the end of the week because we're meeting with a potential partner with the UK government. Just take a few days off to collect your thoughts then you can return back with me and you can set everything straight with the teams." He looked to you with such gentle eyes, his hand landing on the top of yours with a carefulness that seemed unwavering. "I know it's a lot but I'll be with you the whole time. Not just as your commander, as your husband. Our vows may not have been legal but I stand by them that I will stick with you no matter what." 

You tried to smile as you ate but there was a gnawing inside you. Nothing could ease the unsettling twisting at your core. No amount of reassurances, no number of kisses to your cheeks or moments spent holding you close would change it. The thought of going back there, of looking into the eyes of people you'd attacked knowing full well you could do it again if you lost control, it haunted you. 

Jack ran his hands over your old scars, kissing along your arm and taking extra care around the deep talon cuts in your biceps. He kissed around the healing spot where an arrow burrowed into your skin and he made sure to kiss you slow and soft as you overlooked the sky from the porch.  

A storm was coming. Out in the dirt fields you could feel it like static floating in the sky. 

For a few short days you were left in an emotional limbo being pulled in different directions. It felt like Gabe was still holding you by your ankle, still holding you above the dark sea waiting for you to make a choice. Jack had to go back, you knew that. It was selfish to ask him to stay. This was a crossroads you never expected yourself to be at. 

Gabe may not have started his downward spiral by strangling you, but it was a blinding catalyst for his tumble down. 

Was this how he felt when he hurt you? 

Hurting Genji was already a nightmare scenario in itself and you weren't sure if you were prepared to face the very real possibility of one day ending the life of someone close to you. Who would you be if you killed someone you loved? It seemed like an obvious choice in your mind, but it killed you to think how disappointed Jack would be.

For days you sat across from him at the kitchen table with longing stares, trying to will up the courage, trying to just spit out the decision that you know you had to make. One particularly cool morning you ran the perimeter of the property, then hopped the fence over the neighbor's farm and over and under farm after farm until you reached a secluded little area with a rapid stream. 

There, alone in the mist, sweating and worried, you tossed in Genji's blades. One, by one.  

Your decision was made long before you ever said it aloud.  

Two days before you were set to leave with him back to Gibraltar, two days left to tell him the truth about how you felt, you laid at his side in bed and traced his scars from the explosion. He was trying to keep that smile on his face, trying to be hopefully optimistic, but you could feel just how sad he was looking down to your pained expression. You kissed at the scar of a mistaken gunshot and rested your face over his bellybutton.   

"I'm not going back." You whispered. 

"Don't say that." He pleaded with you. He could probably feel it, the distance you'd already been putting between you. 

“I can’t go down the same path Gabe did. I just can’t, Jack. If I’m out there fighting with everyone I can tell you right now, it's only a matter of time before I give into the part of me that wants to be like him. The only thing I can do to help Overwatch now is to be far away from everyone as possible, to not put people in danger by just being _around_ me.”

His hand curled into your hair, keeping your face pressed to his upper stomach. You buried yourself there, feeling the way his stomach jumped with words he was trying to find. 

“Overwatch isn’t Overwatch without you.” His fingers rubbed at the base of your skull. "I could stay here with you then."  

“We both know you can't do that. They need you, commander. Overwatch doesn’t need me anymore, but they need you.” Keep your voice steady, keep your eyes dry. You’ve lived through worse. You bit back a quivering lip before grabbing his hands in yours and holding them as tight as you could manage. “I’ll be waiting for you here. When the fight is over, when you’ve done what you need to do, you come home and I’ll be here. Maybe by then I’ll have even learned how to bake.”

He sobbed out a pained laugh, eyes watering and you watched him from your head resting in his lap.  

“I don't want to leave you here. I fought for so long to come home, I never wanted to be separated again."

"I know." You kissed his bruised knuckles. "But you said it yourself, people are scared of me, and they _should_ be. I won't be able to live with myself if I end up killing one of our own. I'm not willing to put their lives at risk in the hopes that I'll be able to control it. You taught me to be a good leader, and part of that is knowing when to back down. I think now is my time to back down." 

He stayed quiet, trying to stop himself from crying. You watched as he chewed at his cheeks, as he tried to hide his face in his shoulder. 

"You're right, I know. I just... I don’t know when, or if, I’ll be able to come visit. There’s no guarantee I’ll be able to call, no promise I'll make it out of combat-"

"I'll wait. No matter how long, I'll be here waiting for you." There it was. That weight on your chest was finally lifting, your ability to breathe once more returning to your lungs. Funny, all it took was freedom from Overwatch. "If you're still leaving at the end of the week then tomorrow is our last full day together. Let's make the most of it, just make it a normal day, okay?" 

"Yeah." His voice croaked. 

You shifted, leaning up to kiss him and run hands through his hair. 

That night he slept with arms around you. Arms that fell over your waist and pressed your body against his. You closed your eyes and tried to memorize the way his legs felt against yours, the way his abs rippled against your back. That moment you tried to imprint into your mind forever to hold onto until he could be there with you again. He was too warm but you didn't care. That morning you both slept in and woke to the sound of distant thunder overhead. He pressed too many kisses to your cheeks and squeezed you beneath the covers before rolling out of bed with the promise to make breakfast. With big stretches you yawned and made your way to the porch, overlooking the neighbor's field where cattle were huddling beneath large trees near the fence. Still in your pajamas, still half asleep, you smiled to yourself feeling very much at peace.  

Rain was pitter pattering across the farm, little puddles of dirty water splashed with big raindrops and a low feeling of a nearby storm, of electricity filled the gaps in the sky. Water bounced from the pedals of bright yellow daffodils, your fingers laced between their stems as your hands hung off the porch railing uncaring it was being rained on. The air was already chilly, a light wind blowing through the fields every now and then rustling the droplets and splattering into shallow mud puddles. You watched with eyes up to the storm clouds ahead. Deciding to stay put you at both a heart aching calm and an eye watering guilt. Leaving your mission to stop Talon to others- letting a new family of agents finish what you’d started- it made your stomach pulse with nervousness, but for once you were absolutely sure it was the right thing to do. 

The sound of rain muffled noises from the steps of the house just out of your field of vision, but even before you heard anything else, you could feel the shift in the air around you. Refusing to believe your own mind and the familiar thud of heavy footsteps, the heavy thunk of metal hitting wood still couldn’t draw your attention from the rain.

Somewhere behind you, things were clattering down to the floor. A noisy clattering that had you sucking on your teeth and nervously pushing at cuticles. The hiss of a hydraulic mask mixed with thunder before you finally turned to face him. 

Gabriel Reyes was on your front porch. 

Gabe’s head hung low, long hair fell over his face and over his chest, a sea of white against black fatigues and sickly skin. He’d taken off all his weapons, all his belts and armor, even his cloak and mask sat in a lazy pool around his body soaked from the rain. Stripped to the basics, left with only a skin tight top and thick combat pants, he was on his knees, fists curled and pressed to his thighs and without the armor you could see his veins riddled with dark honeycomb patterns just beneath deathly ashed skin. His mask had a terrible crack on the top, his forehead sporting a healing bruise where he'd been hit. Black smoke was lifting into the air around him, smoke you stared at with soft eyes as it disappeared into the breeze.    

“I’m tired.” His voice broke. He lifted his head and you were met with his burning red irises. Deep breaths shook his chest, steadying himself to a barely audible tone. “I didn’t come here to fight.” 

“Jack might kill you if he sees you out here.” You warned, eyes flickering to the window looking in at a white haired man with his back turned your way. 

“That’s okay.” Gabe whispered as he lowered to sit on his legs tucked beneath him. “I know what I’ve done. I know what I deserve. I’ve done nothing but disappoint you and ruin your life. I just can't take it, I can't take seeing you like that. I can't handle seeing you turning into me. I know it's too much to ask for forgiveness. I just want a chance to make sure you're okay, to make sure Genji is okay-” 

“You’ve done terrible things, Gabe.” Your voice was wavering, he flinched at the sound of his name. “You held me over the edge of a fucking bridge.” 

“I know.” Broken. That’s how he looked. Beat down and completely broken. You tried to steady your heartbeat as you stared in at Jack who was happily cooking breakfast, steaming away with the griddle. "I tried to be the monster I thought I was, but it's impossible when there are still so many people I care about. I'm so angry at them, at you, there's still this feeling in me that wants to tear their hearts from their chests but I still want to protect them. I still want to protect you."  

“This whole time the only thing I've wanted was to bring you home and all you do is fight me. How can I believe you? How do I know you won’t attack us now?” 

“You don’t. I'm asking you to trust me even though I know it's far too much to ask.” His eyes looked watery, but you couldn’t quite tell if it was just your imagination or not as you stared into inky darkness and burning reds. His jaw quivered beneath dark gray facial hair, you watched as he chewed at the inside of his lip. He sighed and dropped his head again, bringing hands to his face and pushing them back through long silver hair. “Even now, I can still see what I did to you. There's not a day that I haven't dreamt of it.” 

“Trust me I don't like seeing it either." You mumbled, pushing fingertips to the spot he'd once strangled. "Let me see your real eyes again, please. I just want to see you, not Reaper.” 

He stared back at you with longing empty eyes, neck straining as he choked on his words before he turned away. Deep in your chest, your heart clenched with an awful sadness and a realization hit you. 

“You… you can’t change them back anymore, can you?” 

“No.” Gabe said as he tried to catch his breath. He looked up again, staring into your eyes with an unwavering longing look trying to swallow a shaking breath, voice low.  “They’ve been stuck like this for so long I don’t know what the world really looks like anymore. I hate it. I don’t even remember what color your eyes are.” 

The absolute devastation in his eyes solidified for you that Gabriel Reyes was kneeling in front of you, not Reaper, not a trick or a ruse. It hit you in your gut, a feeling that dug claws into your stomach and pushed it to your heart knocking the breath out of you on the way. 

"I don't want to keep fighting you." He said. "I don't want to push you to that point again. The last thing I ever wanted was for you to end up how I am and I know it needs to stop now before you can't control it."

"Then come to Overwatch. Winston's already modified a room for you that can keep you stable while you're in it. You don't have to fight us anymore. You can fight with us." You were putting on your best poker face, trying not to let it slip that you weren't even going back to Overwatch, so his pleas didn't really matter in the end. 

"I can't do that yet." He shook his head. "But I know I can help you all. Please, just hear me out. Give me a chance." 

Even surrounded with his own weapons, with smoke lifting into the air and horrifying eyes, you still couldn't help but see the man you'd spent so many evenings laughing and training with you. He was still your family. He was evil, or maybe just confused, or maybe you were just too soft-hearted, but he was still Gabe. Everything about this seemed far too good to be true, but you were willing to take any breadcrumb of familiarity you could. He was a part of you that had been missing for all too long. That's what you wanted, you family back, and here he was offering it on a silver platter. 

You'd start small, get your bearings with him, test him to see if he was being genuine.  

"Stay here. Don't fucking move. I mean it." You had to take deep breaths to just prepare yourself to tell Jack who was waiting outside. 

You turned back to the door, fingers making it to the handle before you paused and looked back at him. This seemed so stupid, you didn't know anything about him anymore or about how his body worked. Clearly he was degenerating, clearly he'd survived some sort of terrible head trauma but he still needed the same things you did, right? Breakfast. Start with breakfast. 

"Can you- um, are you able to eat?"

"What? Of course I can." He seemed to be taken out of the moment by your strange question, his hair shaking around his head as he cocked it to the side. "I am still human." 

"Okay, stay there." You sucked in a breath and pushed through the front door heading straight for Jack who was humming to himself in the kitchen. 

"You are looking particularly beautiful this morning Mrs. Morrison. Enjoying the rain?" He smiled at you and leaned forward with a kiss that you pecked at. 

"You're very sweet." This felt beyond awkward. How were you even supposed to ask this?

Hey do you think you slap a couple extra pieces of bacon on there for our old pal Gabriel Reyes? 

Well, the rain's pretty good but, funny story, something a lot more interesting landed on our porch, any chance you're cool with a wanted terrorist joining us for breakfast? 

You know what would be wild and crazy of us? To invite the one person in the world you're the maddest at to eat at our kitchen table. 

No, everything you ran through in your mind sounded like it was just a couple steps away from landing you in Angela's psych wing. 

"Do you think you can make an extra plate?" You touched his arm gingerly, keeping the truth hidden behind your lips. 

"Is Glenn coming over? Usually, he calls first-" 

"It's not Glenn." You breathed out, placing a kiss on his arm. "I need you to trust me, and I need you to promise me that our last day together is going to be a good one." 

"Of course it is." He looked to you with concern, eyes scanning your face for any tells of what you were up to. "Who exactly am I making this plate for?" 

"Promise me no matter what that you'll make this day good for me. Please. I need it." The serious tone suddenly felt like a wool blanket over the conversation. He stared at you with eyes slowly growing more and more fearful. You dropped to a whisper. "Please, Jack." 

He was far too calm as he sat his spatula down and snapped his eyes to the open door. You lingered behind him as he made his way to it, shaking the floor with heavy steps until he was able to lean out of it and look at the unmasked man waiting on his knees on the porch. From your angle you couldn't see his face, or Gabe's face. All you saw was his entire body freeze and no movement, no sound for far too long. When he finally composed himself enough to lean back into the house he stared right at you, icy eyes raging and his jaw tight. 

"Absolutely not."

"He's cooperating, Jack. Look all his weapons are off, his mask, he doesn't want a fight and he did that all on his own. I know you hate him. I know you don't trust him at all, but please, this is all I've wanted for years. Can we at least hear him out?" You were begging as Jack was stomping back to a closet locked away at the end of the house. He was fuming as he grabbed his gun, loading bullets into the chamber hard. With shaking breaths you grabbed his arm, trying to pull him away from a handgun you knew would do nothing to Gabe if he tried to shoot him. As you touched him, his loading slowed, his mouth lifted with an upset snarl. "Please Jack, do this for me. Just give him a chance." 

"After everything he's done-" 

"I know. He's not a good person, and he's an even worse friend. But you and I both know he's like family, and I'm willing to give him an opportunity to prove he can still be a part of that." 

"I want to hurt him." Jack sighed, slamming the gun pack in place. He seethed and stared at other weapons loosely thrown into the closet. He grabbed for a pair of magnetic handcuffs, turning them over in his hand and chewing the side of his lip. "He has to wear these. That's the only way I'll allow this. If he tries anything, I will kill him."

You nodded your head and accepted his terms that you were sure he must have known were ridiculous. He knew what Reaper was capable of, what he could do with his own degenerative powers. If Gabe really wanted to, he could be out of those handcuffs in a breath, but you were sure Jack was doing it more as a show of trust than an actual deterrent against an attack. You were following quick on his heels back out to the porch where Gabe was still on his knees. He looked to you then to the handcuffs in Jack's fists and silently accepted lifting his wrists out in front of him. 

"I'm going to search you for other weapons." Jack threatened as the cuffs magnetized together. 

Gabe carefully pushed himself to his feet, standing with his arms together in front of his body as Jack moved around his body to pat him down. You watched at the door, every now and then catching flashes of lightning in the distance followed by low rumbles. Jack hit something on the back of Gabe's hip, a pouch attached to his belt that he tore off and opened expecting to find the worst. His low brows lifted, his whole face softening as he stared into the pouch. 

"Don't get too excited Jacky, those aren't for you." Gabe almost a smile on his face. 

Jack looked to you and tossed the pouch your way, you caught it with one hand and looked in the open top with curiosity. 

Gummy bears. Colorful little bears with big friendly gummy eyes that stared back at you along with happy little pressed on mouths. You almost laughed. It almost brought you to tears. You weren't sure how to feel about it, but you could see it on Jack's face. For the first time since the explosion, you saw a hope that his friend was still the man he used to be and not the monster he assumed. Jack walked him into the house, gathering Gabe's weapons and cloak to pile in a lonely chair across from the still stained couch. 

The house felt different with Gabe in it. Tense and clearly uncomfortable, the three of you ate a homecooked breakfast in the kitchen. Jack, standing with his plate in his hands as he leaned against the counter. You were in your usual chair, legs up and forking at your meal while Gabe sat opposite of you happily eating away even with the cuffs around his wrists forcing them together. Most of that conversation consisted of Jack grilling Gabe on what exactly he'd done with Talon, the crimes, the killing, anything and everything he could think of. You bounced your eyes between them as they fell from angry untrusting tones into a strange sense of familiarity.      

Jack didn't eat much. 

By late morning they were past petty digs and blame. Questions about the atrocities he'd committed quickly turned to a solemn conversation of shared horrors after the base exploded. Gabe watched you with endless eyes as you told him how you managed to survive and what drove you to such a deteriorating state. You wanted to tell him everything, to just unload all the anger and hurt he'd put you through and how long you felt so damn alone. Instead, you were patient with him. You let him tell the two of you all about the worsening nightmares and the years he spent chasing memories of his previous life to no avail.     

The rain broke in the afternoon, clouds parting giving way to long beams of sunlight that peppered across the farm. You took to washing the dishes as they sat on the porch swing and talked for hours. Jack pushed gently with his feet to sway the chair, Gabe rested cuffed hands between his knees as he leaned on his legs. From their muffled conversation through the glass, you could hear them talking about SEP, about former agents and missions and stories about their scars. Every now and then you'd catch your name, sometimes through a laugh, sometimes with a much more serious undertone.

They talked long past the sun setting. No longer was Jack clenching his fist or Glaring at Gabe and you couldn't describe how comforting it was to finally see your two commanders together again- even if one of them was in handcuffs. As the sun was slipping behind the horizon, you flipped on the porch light bathing them in soft yellow and joined them, leaning against the railing where your flowers lined the wood. 

"It nice to see you guys not beating the shit out of each other." You tried to have a pep in your voice, but it sounded so sad. 

"I still might." Jack half laughed, his face dropping in seriousness as he turned to look at Gabe. "You're my best friend, Gabe. You got me through SEP and stuck with me when they chose me for strike commander. I've known you almost my whole life and I care for you, deeply. Even with that, I haven't forgiven you for anything. If I'm being honest with myself, I don't think I'm capable of it."

Gabe bounced his leg, shaking the porch swing ever so slightly and nodded his head in a sad agreement. His long silver hair swayed with the breeze, partially covering the way his eyes searched the wood.

"I know it's hard to believe but I do want the same thing you want, Jack. At this point I've just realized I'm willing to do anything and everything it takes to get revenge on Talon, even if that means I have to play along with their games and be used a weapon for certain things."

"Like killing innocent people." 

"Yeah." Gabe looked to his cuffs, red burning centers gazing at the glowing lights across the metal. "I'm able to justify my actions because I know in the end I will get what I want, what I dedicated my life at Overwatch too. Maybe I'm just numb to it now, but in my own mind I know I'm doing the right thing."

"You have a strange definition of 'right thing'. If you were really doing the 'right thing' you'd come back with us, with me, to Overwatch. You'd turn yourself in." As he spoke and slipped that it was just him going back to Overwatch, Gabe lifted his eyes to you. 

"I'm retiring." You joked, letting it fall flat. 

Gabe let out a deep breath, almost as if he'd been holding it since he got there. A look of relief washed over him, surprised relief. 

"I doubt my old agents would want me there. Genji's a bit of a firecracker and who knows what he'd do to be if I showed up." 

"Genji's matured a lot." You couldn't help staring down at your own hands and envisioning the thick grease that was in the tubes you pulled on your skin. "He's doing well for himself. Even invited his brother to join Overwatch. Jesse... Jesse's pretty mad at you still, but I assume you probably realized that with the whole-" You motioned around your forehead, meant to signify the bruise on his. 

"I failed them as their commander. It's taken me a long time to come to terms with that."  

Jack made dinner as you tried to get Gabe to open up more about the things Talon was doing. He seemed preoccupied, mind drifting away from him every now and then and it worried you when he'd go quiet for too long. In the middle of a sentence at one point he stood, walking around the room only to stop at the hung up pictures on the wall, pictures of you and your boys from the night at the charity event. Jack kept an eye on him as Gabe lifted his cuffed hands to point at the one of you between the two commanders. In the picture Gabe was smiling, his jacket thrown over one shoulder and his head tilted towards you. Jack was smirking that signature smirk with an arm over your shoulder and all of you had this tint of pink from dancing the night away. You all looked so damn happy. 

"When I was trying to get my memory back, there was one that would keep popping up." Gabe was fixated on the picture. "A woman trying on a blue dress in a dressing room and I would always be so frustrated because I knew I had these feelings of happiness in that moment but I could never remember the look on her face when..." 

"Gabe?" 

"Sorry. It's strange to feel... like this again. To just be standing here with you two and not be hurting each other. I'm thankful for it. Thank you for letting me in." He looked to you, red eyes seeming to look right through your skin. "Would it be possible for me to talk to you alone?" 

"Not a chance." Jack's voice bellowed from the kitchen. "You two don't get to keep secrets from me anymore. Whatever you need to say to her can be done here."  

Gabe cleared his throat, shifting on his feet as his hips adjusted to face you. 

"I heard you visited Moira and confirmed you're sick in the same way I am. I... I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. If I could take everything back, believe me, I would." His scars looked so deep against his face. The massive one that covered the side seemed to creep over his face with the sole intention of making him look all the scarier. You wanted to reach out and touch it, to see if it felt the same as the deep scars on your arm and side. "I don't expect you to forgive me." 

After dinner, you set up a makeshift bed on the couch for Gabe. He was volunteering some of Talon's plans as you fluffed out a pillow and smoothed out blankets that you were sure he wouldn't even use. Physically, that day was one of the easier ones you'd been through, but to relive and retell so many key moments that brought you to that day with Gabe in your kitchen was emotionally taxing and drained you to a point where you were sure as soon as your head hit the pillow you'd be out. Gabe looked exhausted too, but he'd looked exhausted even when he arrived there.

Jack's plan of giving you a normal day, of maybe taking you for a walk at the university or a run around the farm was thwarted by Gabe appearing with his guilt and half-hearted excuses.  

There was a lot of trust going to sleep that night. Jack made Gabe promise they'd leave together in the morning, Jack had to catch a flight that afternoon. He left out Gabe's weapons, but let Gabe sleep with the cuffs still around his wrists. You said goodnight to him at the end of the hall when you turned off the lights, taking a moment to stare at him looking almost cartoonishly large and depressingly clad all in black compared to the bright florals around him. There was trust in not just having him in the house, but in that he wouldn't try to attack either of you while you were sleeping. Jack wouldn't admit it, but you wanted to believe that somewhere deep down, he truly still believed in his friend and wanted to believe there was good in him. 

Jack was sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands when you closed the door behind you. 

"I hate that I'm leaving you tomorrow. I hate that he's here." He was mumbling into his palms, you clicked off the lights and allowed the room to fill with soft moonlight before pushing your way between his knees and curling your own hands around his scruffy jaw. 

"Maybe it's not what we thought it'd be, but I had a good day. If it was up to me I would keep you both here and pretend like all this shit with Overwatch and Talon never existed. It was a lot to take in but I'm thankful for it." You kissed his forehead and a small smile lifted his lips. "For a minute there during dinner I actually almost felt normal." 

He stared up at you, studying every inch of your face, every scar that peeked beneath the sleeve of your loose shirt. There was nothing you could say that would lift the deep sadness of knowing by this time tomorrow you'd be miles apart and teary eyed wishing you could kiss him. 

For now, you wanted him to have you, to completely have you in a way he hadn't for far too long and likely wouldn't for a long time to come. With steadying breaths, you brought his hand to your face, his fingertips to your lips. His pupils widened and chest fell in on itself as he realized you were sucking in two fingers, pushing them with your tongue and moving your body closer. His body seemed to resist for a moment as your legs pushed between his and his eyes fluttered at the feeling of you working his digits with your mouth. 

"You really want to do this with Gabe out there?" His voice dropped lower, eyes falling heavy and the front of his pants twitching towards you. With a smile, you pulled his fingers from your lips and brought his hand to the height of your hip.    

"Just means you'll have to be extra quiet." You lifted a leg, throwing it over the side so you were pressing your center to his thigh. 

"I'm not the loud one." He said right up against your ear, fingers tangling into your hair and a hand slipping beneath your shirt up your back. 

He kissed at the base of your neck, long slow kisses that made your skin light with a familiar love. He pushed your clothes off you, pulling away any barriers from his lips to your skin as quickly as he could. You grabbed the end of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it across the room as his hands returned to slide over your old scars. The way he touched you almost made you melt, it had you holding back your little noises and keeping your breath trapped in your chest wanting more. 

He smiled and leaned forward to kiss at the edges, holding you gently but keeping you close to him. He pulled back, noticing you shifting your hips and biting your lip. 

"Breathe." He whispered, kisses landing over you again as you let out a sigh and fell forward onto him.

He toppled over with you, his back to the mattress and you climbing over his legs to spread your thighs against his hips. Just the way he looked at you, a lust lost in love, it made you writhe against him and slide your folds over his cock hoping to get a big reaction from him. He was painfully hard already, pressing between your legs and throbbing with a need for your body not just for sex, but for the connection he felt with you completely giving into him. His hands tugged at your thighs, trying to inch you up his body towards his face where he was smirking and whispering the dirty things he wanted to do to you. 

Following his lead, you moved up him, swinging your thighs to either side of his face and pressing the back of his head into the mattress. His mouth was so warm, so inviting and just what you wanted as arms hooked around you to keep you in place. A loud gasp left you as his tongue made its first move, the gasp forced you to slap your hand over your mouth remembering to keep as quiet as possible. 

After he heard you, it was almost like a game to him, to do everything in his power to make you moan or say his name. He had you shaking, leaned forward gripping into the comforter with a hand over your mouth clasping so hard you almost thought you might bruise yourself.    

When he was all too satisfied with himself, he used his strength to lift your legs from his face and take deep lustful breaths. You didn't even have a chance to think before he brought you back down his body, sitting you again above his hips as he poked at you with his aching cock. Sweating and desperate to make him just as far as you were, you slid over him, over and over making a show of rotating your hips and circling in his lip.

"Don't tease me." He begged softly. "Not tonight. I need you." 

You were more than happy to oblige him. You pushed at his tip, filling you perfectly with a familiar swell all the way until he was buried completely in you. 

"I love you." You whispered as you threw your head back. 

He grunted, probably a little too loud, as he snapped up. You shushed him, biting back your own noises with your fingers pressed to his lips. As you bounced above him you tried to stop a creeping sadness, a question in your mind of when you'd see him next, when you'd touch him next. Your body was on fire, your core tight with a heat he'd built you that was about to burst. The bizarre cocktail of emotions erupted as he hilted particularly deep in you. You fell forward, burying your face in his chest and clawing your hands to his back. 

He sat up, bringing you with him so you were sitting in his lap and the angle in you shifted deeper making you see white for a moment. 

"Please-" He kissed at your neck, hips thrusting deep and slow against you. "Come with me. You don't have to fight, I just need you there." 

"I can't." You were crying but you were on the verge of spilling over, your entire body was a mess and limbs felt numb as you searched his eyes. "I'm sorry. We both know I'm too dangerous."

"I love you, sweetheart." In the dark you could see that he was crying, too. 

Neither of you wanted to stop. Speed was no longer a concern, instead he pushed you over the edge with the deepest rolling thrusts he'd ever pushed into you. He held you in his lap, kept your face close to his with every snap up until he could feel your walls tightening and twitching. Even as the two of you were cumming, even during a moment that is so often focused only on the physical connection, you were hyper focused on the way he was touching you, on the salty taste of his lips, on the way it felt to release a flood of emotions in time with an orgasm.     

Afterward, you stayed there in his arms, Two bodies unable to be any closer together just holding one another. 

The future was muddy, your paths no longer written in contracts or counting down with the timer of a bomb. Now with a clear mind and drying eyes you were realizing that even if it hurt, it would be okay. The bond you had with him was something that not even death itself could take away from you, and a few miles or a few battles couldn't knock you down. 

In the dark you kissed him. You called him your commander and you told him over and over again how much you loved him. He held you long into the night, unwilling to close his eyes and finally sleep because that would mean he was that much closer to being gone. As you slipped into one of his old shirts and cheap running shorts that you never really used for running, you laid side by side with him, holding his hand until finally you heard soft snoring. 

The house was warm, or maybe it was just your body still, but you laid sleepless beneath soft sheets waiting for your body to finally rest. Outside a lonely cricket was steadily sounding off, the window open to cool night air and a cloudless sky. You laid there, unable to sleep yet completely exhausted. For once you weren’t spooning Jack, instead he was on his side facing away from you and you were laying on your back with your hand hanging over the edge of the bed, letting the white noise of wind outside lull you to sleep.

Lace curtains fluttered in a gentle breeze, your eyes were closed as you tried to focus on your breathing. Your hand hanging over the edge of the bed twitched, a familiar stringy sensation of smoke curled around your palm. It made your breath catch and you still completely recalling every time you'd felt it before. You cracked open your eyes and turned your head to the side to see Gabe forming solid next to you on the floor, sitting defeated at eye level with you and you stayed completely still as you let his hand materialize heavy into yours before you shifted your head to the side. 

“Gabe-” You whispered. 

Maybe it was just the light, a trick of the moon, or a tired brain, but you swore you saw the whites of his eyes behind a glossy shine and it caught you off guard. Tips of his fingers rested against the inside of your wrist, fingers that rubbed careful small circles over your skin in the silence. You tightened your fingers around his hand and silver hair fell over his face hiding it in shadow. Just as you suspected, he'd easily escaped the handcuffs, he'd only kept them on that long to play along with easing Jack's fear and he knew it couldn't scare you to see him free. 

“I’m sorry.” He responded, breath below the noise of the wind. “I wasn't telling you the truth. I didn't think Jack would be here. I came here for entirely selfish reasons.”

Your breath hitched in your chest. You knew, somewhere deep down that it was more than just guilt of what he'd done and a change of heart. He pulled at your arm, just gently enough to silently tell you he wanted you to come to the floor with him and you complied, quietly sliding out from the sides of the sheets to land at his side sitting next to him with your back leaned against the side of the bed. He seemed hesitant to speak, his body still even as he held loosely at your wrist. 

“I can see how happy he makes you.” His voice was quiet. “After everything I’ve put you though, everything the world has thrown at you, you deserve to be happy.”

“You do too, Gabe.” 

He looked to you with hollow guilt that you felt even in the dim moonlight. You could tell him that a thousand times, carve it into his skin, chisel it into his skull, or burn it into his muscles, but still he wouldn’t believe you. Your other hand joined clasping around his, holding him with a care that you were sure he hadn't felt in years. His whole body seemed to sigh, every part of him wanting nothing more than to keep your hands with his forever.   

"I was hoping to convince you, without interruptions, to stop fighting against me." He shook his head in frustration. "I can't take it. All I think about are all those nights you helped me learn to control the smoke. I hold back because it's you and eventually that is going to be more dangerous than you realize. There are already people who know I go easy on certain people in Overwatch and Doomfist has even threatened to take extreme measures to ensure I comply with his plans. I can't allow him to weaponize you against me." 

"I guess that problem solved itself, then." You sighed, squeezing his hand. "Since I'm not going back to Overwatch, you don't have to worry about that anymore. You'll never have to fight against me again." 

"I didn't mean to push you. The last thing I wanted was for you to... to kill without care, to be like me, to be consumed by it. I know what it's like. I know the fear that comes with it. It's not something I would wish on my worst enemies." He was quiet, lost in his thoughts for a moment. “I’m leaving.”

“Please-” You begged, fingers holding onto him as tight as they could. “Please, Gabe. Don’t go. You don’t have to go back there-” 

“I’m not finished with Talon yet.” His voice was strained. “Now that I’m seeing things clearly again, now that I’m not just their mindless weapon, I have to do this. Talon is my responsibility to stop. If I go down in the process, then so be it. I know what I started and I know how it has to end.” 

Jack shifted behind you with a long breath and a drawn out snore that almost made you laugh in the seriousness of the moment. You pulled Gabe towards you, close enough to wrap an arm around his neck and bury your face into his long hair. He hesitated for only a moment before relenting, his cold hand held you at your shoulders and hugged you tight, you could feel his breath hitching at the crook of your neck. 

“I know I can’t stop you.” You whispered through a hiccup. "I wish I could do something. I wish I could make you stay."

“Yeah.” His voice was strained, caught at the top of this throat. “Me too."  

“I hate you.” You sobbed as quietly as you could into silver hair. 

“I know.” His fingers tightened at your shoulders, digging into the fabric of your shirt. 

You both knew it wasn't true. You hated the things he did. You hated that your genes were now slowly deteriorating. You hated that he hurt you and ran from you again and again. You hated many things, but you loved him and you both knew that. 

In the darkness, as you sat on the floor with him he leaned forward pressing his face forehead to forehead, nose to nose with yours as his hands slipped to the sides of your hair cradling your head. Waiting in complete silence, warm tears down fell and his thumbs landed high on your cheeks you whispered his name. Something about the way he was looking at you felt so final. Whatever he was going to do, his plans with Talon or the information he gave Jack to stop him, he knew it could very well be the last time he had the chance to hold you like this. 

You completely stilled as he pushed out a short breath, lifted his head and placed a long soft kiss to the top of your forehead. His goatee tickled almost, it made you smile and tears rolled over stained lips against your tongue as you sniffled trying to stop the waterworks. He stayed there, almost not wanting to break the moment before he knew it was going on for far too long. As he carefully pulled away, his hands fell to your jaw slowly moving until fingers rested just at the top of your neck.   

He offered you a tight smile and his hair fell to the side, showing you glossy eyes with dark centers and whites surrounding them. 

"Gabe, your eyes-" You reached for his cheek, fingertips pressing against terribly scarred skin.

Before you could grab him, your hand pushed forward and fell into the air, his face twisting into black smoke that settled to the floor then quickly slipped away.

Palms to the floor, body shaking with sobs you were trying to quiet, you stayed there at the side of the bed frozen in your own emotions. It didn't feel fair, but then again, nothing in your life did. 

At least this time, you had a real goodbye. 

In the morning you wandered into an empty silent living room. Running on little sleep and knowing the day would already be hard enough, you woke before Jack did and wandered down the hall. You knew he’d be gone, but still that didn’t stop the feeling of your heart sinking to the floor or the tears welling at your eyes as you faced the reality that Gabriel Reyes was never meant to be more than a hurricane in your life. You balled the ends of your oversized sweatshirt in your fists, bringing them to your cheeks as you wiped at already raw skin and rubbed at swollen eyelids.

Outside the windows the air was gray with mist from the neighbor's farm, lighting the room with dim morning sunlight as the smell of dew crept in through a cracked open window. It was chilly, the air held with a heart aching still. In his place on the couch, he’d folded up a torn floral quilt neatly placed with a pillow on top- military precision as always. His weapons, his cloak, everything was gone with the exception of his broken mask resting on the coffee table.

Your eyes fell to the neatly stacked pile, lying on the pillow was a small piece of paper. A square of white scrap he’d pulled from your kitchen that you normally wrote notes for groceries to buy on. His handwriting was neat, written with care, obviously he'd taken his time to make it as legible as possible. 

* 3 cups milk 

* 6 ounces of chocolate, semisweet 

* 2 ½ tablespoons cinnamon 

* 2 tablespoons almonds, crushed 

* 1 teaspoon vanilla 

* Pinch of salt

Finely chop chocolate. Crush almonds until powdery.

Simmer milk and cinnamon together, medium/low heat, stir often make sure it doesn’t boil.

Add rest of ingredients, stir constantly. 

Take care of yourself. Don’t end up like me. 

Gabe

As if the recipe wasn't enough, you stared at his name at the bottom of the note. A name he once told you was dead. A name he'd said over and over not to call him by. A name he cringed or looked away at every time you called him by it. A name he hadn't called himself by in a long, long time. 

In the silence as you caught the sobs in a sore throat, you heard the shuffling of Jack behind you. He slowly wrapped his arms around you, burying half his face in your hair as you read over nothing but a simple recipe on a stupid piece of paper, but you had your hand to your mouth and it took everything in your power not to let out an ugly cry. He read it over from above your shoulder, squeezing you seemingly with every new line. 

"I think some part of me expected he'd leave." Jack spoke carefully, little pecks trailed along the crown of your head. "Come on, we only have a few more hours before I need to go. Come lay with me." 

You left the note in its place and followed hand in hand back to the bedroom where you laid with him, your head resting on his chest as he played with your hair and empty talk about what the future may hold. He gave you a quiet morning, one in bed to reflect back on the love you'd built with him.

"I'm not ready for you to go." You hid your mouth behind your sleeve as you sat up on the bed, his suitcase open and the majority of his clothes he'd left behind the first time getting packed away. 

"It's not goodbye forever." He tried to brighten your somber mood. "We just have to see what the future holds."  

As he rolled the suitcase down the hall and to the front doors, you hugged at his back and kissed at his spine. He turned to help you down the stairs before bringing the luggage along and laced his fingers with yours until he had to let go to throw his suitcase in the back of the car.

He smiled, bright sunlight lit his white hair surrounding him with a glowing outline that made you smile back. Even though you were standing in his shadow you felt almost as if the sun was beating straight down on you. It was unexplainable, the warm happiness he filled you with. The love that should have never happened, and the story that seemed impossible. With an unbreakable smile, your commander leaned forward for one last long kiss that had you pressing your entire body against his. His fingers lifted your chin so you were looking into his eyes that matched the sky and even though it was sad, you finally felt okay.

It was goodbye, but you hoped not for long. 

“I love you, Jack Morrison.” You said through shuddered breaths. He grunted getting into the driver's side of the car and smirked at you then chewed at the inside of his lips. Watery eyes watched his every movement as the engine sputtered to life and the car rolled forward. His window was down, hand hanging out to hold yours as he drove as slowly as he could up the driveway until the very last second where you were forced to let him go. “Come home soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr at [hostilewitness-ao3](https://hostilewitness-ao3.tumblr.com/)! :)


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